The Castle Project
by Dividing MDH
Summary: A husk of his former self, Etrius has been forcibly recruited to serve in a covert Government agency. Etrius has no idea what he's stepping into, what is The General hiding? Where was he? And what what was the answer to the mystery of the castles? Based off the web series by Oscar Johannsson ... /animation/view/oscar/castle-iii-trailer cover art by the only horse
1. Chapter 1 - Reinstated Commander

**Note - If you haven't seen the Castle animation videos, then have a look at the Information Page first, otherwise you could get lost**

**Prologue**

_Agony, pain beyond anything he had experienced before. Who was he? What had he been doing? He was on top of a massive stone alter, he couldn't see anything past it, everything had been just so dark. The man was on his hands and knees, what the hell had been going on? He felt a sticky liquid against his skin and across the floor, blood. His blood? What the hell was happening?_

_A vicious snarl came from somewhere in the darkness. The man bolted up, had that been an animal?  
"What the hell!" the man cried.  
The animal snarled again, more savagely. Beads of sweat ran down the man's face, what the fuck was going on?! The man backed away from the edge, the animal had climbed the alter._

_It was the shape of a human, but it had been feral or something. Mixed blood and saliva drooped down it's jaw, dirty nails were abnormally long and sharp, the eyes were evilly glowing white, and when it opened it's mouth threateningly, it revealed it's sharpened gore stained teeth._  
_Something was definitely wrong here. It crept up to him on all fours.  
__"What the hell is happening?!" the man tried to run away, but then it just went all black._

* * *

Etrius woke up suddenly in a cold sweat. What had he been dreaming about? He tried to remember but the memories were escaping him. Something to do with blood? Where had it been? It was hopeless.  
Civilian life didn't suit Etrius; he lived in a two roomed condo with empty cigarette packets and old clothes lying haphazardly around the floor. A fan was sweeping away smoke out of the window. Etrius stumbled over the junk and looked out the window. Even in the early morning the city was bustling with activity, clean respectable business workers babbling incessantly into their phones.

He started smoking slowly, he could feel calm roll over the rage that had been always so close to the edge. The clean military Etrius had faded away, months of stubble bristled on his jaw, his hair was unkempt and dandruff infested, and the blended scent of smoke and liquor was intensely lingering in the condo. If it weren't for The General he wouldn't be have been there, The General had pushed him to do it, the memory of it was another stain upon his sick history, but it was certainly the most significant.

Etrius shook himself, if The General had kept his damn mouth shut nothing would have happened. It had been The General's fault, Etrius' orders had been to complete the mission regardless of how he did it. But every assault they had laid to the building had resulted in a failure, he had to fight dirty, but when the story was leaked, the press and public demanded to know who was responsible. So the elite team was used as a scapegoat, Etrius had been discharged, what a happy ending.

He threw the butt out of the window and went into the bathroom for a shower. Less trash littered the floor in the bathroom, but a few cigarette packets lay on the sink and a half drained whiskey bottle was on the toilet seat. The bathroom was tiny, barely able to hold a shower cubicle and toilet, but he didn't care so long as they worked. Etrius took a long stare at himself in a mirror, in those days he spent long hours just staring at nothing, just thinking; he looked like mid sixties in the reflection, but he was actually in his early forties, Etrius blamed stress overload for that.

Wrinkles ran deep on his face, white unkempt hair was riddled with dandruff, deep dark bags hung under his green eyes. There wasn't a single thing in the world anyone could say to help him break out of depression, and Etrius didn't want anyone's pity. He tore his gaze away when he heard a loud knock on his door, who had even knew that he had been there? He hadn't even told his old team where he'd be living. Who could possibly know he was here? Etrius ran through all of the possibilities but found none. His brain was working at a fraction that it used to but even then he could put the pieces together. Something was going on.

On his way to the front door Etrius picked up a baseball bat, it was essential to get the jump on them if they had been there to kill him. He slowly peeled back the wooden door so he only showed his face and neck, the rest concealed behind the door along with the bat.  
Two men in military uniform stood before him, both of them had the chevron symbol pinned to their left side chest. Underneath that was The General's private unit symbol, an upside down chevron with a silver star on top of it. The General? Etrius involuntarily scowled, he had been discharged and he didn't want anything to do with that bastard, not after Rebirth Island.

"Commander Etrius?" asked the closest one.  
If they didn't expect to see the 'legendary' elite leader Etrius, beaten and depressed they didn't show it, in fact they were ignoring Etrius' clearly aggravated face, undeniably a tough thing to do when Etrius' face could give Hitler a run for his money.  
"No, just Etrius. I don't work for your _boss_ anymore," Etrius could feel the hatred now. There was no reason for him to go back to The General, The General had used him to defeat an organisation then discarded him as a thing. A tool to be used. No, nothing these two morons would say would convince him to go back to The General and lick his boots.

"Consider yourself reinstated, The General needs your help with a mission critica-" he lost it.  
"I DON'T WORK FOR THE GENERAL OR ANYBODY ELSE!" Etrius smashed the bat into the closest couriers' face.  
The other soldier caught the victim who was about to fall onto the ground, but Etrius rammed the bat into the uninjured courier's chest, the couriers fell back the most recent victim winded.  
"Tell The General that if he tries to come and get me again, I'll break his _neck,_" he slammed the door and locked it, he knew the noise would attract his neighbouring landlord to inspect the commotion.

**One - Reinstated ... Commander**

Etrius sat in cuffed and blindfolded in a van with no light. He felt like he'd been sitting on the uncomfortable floor for hours, but of course he couldn't tell. Multiple soldiers working for The General had finally brought him down in his apartment, and they had to resort to desperate tactics. Now he had to endure what felt like the driver going out of his way to drive as fast as he could, over every speed bump he could find.

Etrius wanted to butcher every single one of The General's thugs, he wanted to murder every single one of them in cold blood. But first he wanted to talk to The General, oh yes he'd make The General pay. He had crossed the line this time, it took some nerve just to _ask_ him to join after Rebirth, but kidnapping him and throwing him in a van? He was going to tear The General a new hole for him to crap out of.

Etrius sat there for what felt like days, after each hour his temper lessened a little bit, not focusing on what he wanted to do to The General but more or less how to escape. He shifted around the small confine very slowly. His shins were tied back to his thighs so movement was tedious and pestering. He hit his head against the wall sharply making the affected area feel like someone had stuffed a tennis ball between the skull.

The banging and yelping was enough to make the driver to have cried out, "What the hell?" and break the van. But when Etrius was completely quiet for a few minutes (A hard task considering the throbbing pain on the back of his head), the driver resumed doing his job. Etrius then started groaning and gibbering, he hated this position he hated _everything_.

The Hatred was starting to flood back. Everything was just so irritating, now he had a headache from the impact. Damn it, why was The General doing this to him? Why? His lack of control of the situation made him go ape shit.  
"FUCK YOU GENERAL, LET ME OUT OF THE FUCKING CAR," Etrius bashed himself against the rear door of the van, "LET ME OUT! LET ME OUT! LET ME OUT! LET ME OUT!"

Etrius could feel the van stopping a second time but he kept bashing himself up against the door, he felt his back grow sore from the abuse, the echoes and the movement made his headache pound harder than ever.  
"LET ME OUT! LET ME OUT! LET ME OUT!" When Etrius was about to throw himself against the door again, he was surprised as the door burst open while he was in mid throw.  
So instead of colliding with a solid door his head collided painfully into the driver's crotch.

Anyone in the vicinity might have thought an explosion had occurred, for the two men were in a fit of angry yelling, swearing mostly. The driver was babbling and hopping around both of his hands holding his gentlemen's region, and Etrius fell head first onto very sharp gravel. The part that hit the ground first was the part of his head the had hit the van wall so he felt immeasurable pain.

Etrius' blind fold had slid off when his face scraped across the jagged gravel. He wasn't taking in his surroundings; he was more focused on the massive pain in his head. But when he did get around to partially taking notice of what he was looking at, he was in a forest, no idea where, he might even be off country and he wouldn't know. Like most forests on Earth in Etrius' time, all of the trees were leave less or their leaves were growing thin and scarce, dead looking too.

Pillars of smoke arose distantly in the forest's background. The trees weren't close together, tree stumps were frequent and nearly everywhere, this forest was dying no doubt about that. But Etrius' concern was escape and the driver was almost recovered from the abuse to his err … his err milk station. Etrius fumbled his legs in a decrepit attempt to untie his leg restraints, but the bond was too tight if he could just untie his arms …

So he compensated by feebly fumbling his arms, the position that they had been for the trip was irritating. Etrius really wanted to break the cuffs, but the last time he tried that his wrists were broken, and if he wanted to escape rendering his hands as useless would not be a good start. He tried forcing his hands through the cuffs, but they were too tight, forcing them to go through was pure agony so he desisted.

Damn James Bond movies, they had always made it look so easy. Etrius again tried to fit his wrists through, he tried to block out the pain but it was more intense than last time because of the renewed vigour. He shrieked as loud as he could again, now that he had tried so hard to get them off the second time the cuffs were stuck in between the widest part of his hand, unable to move backwards or forwards, the outline digging into his skin.

Etrius' writhed from the multiple pain sources. The driver had gotten over his injury, and was trying to help Etrius get his cuffs back into his wrists, Etrius didn't care whether the wrists moved backwards or forwards or whoever helped him, he just wanted the blinding pain to stop. The birds resting in the treetops finally fluttered away from all of the commotion.

It was more pain to get the hand cuffs back into place, but after a lengthy struggle and a record amount of screaming, Etrius was groaning in pain, red and bruised marks were deep in the affected area, the headache was worse than ever from the screaming and his head still hurt from the collision.  
"Don't try and escape again," the driver threatened. Eventually, the driver checked all of his restraints, and then dragged him back into the van, a pile of agony.

Etrius could feel the vehicle moving again, but he just lay there taking the driver's advice on not trying to do anything that would result in weeks of being sore. The van resumed bumping all over the place like before, but Etrius was beyond caring, he just lay in a forced fetal position. Nervousness crept up on him like ants, rage wasn't a good anaesthetic anymore and he couldn't block out his anxiety with it.

This was one of the few scenarios in years that would end up with the same shitty ending no matter what he did, what if his days were finally numbered? Somehow that last internal query didn't concern Etrius as much as it would other people, if he died he wouldn't have to serve as The General's play thing, he could end his depression.

In fact if he died he wondered what would await him, choirs of angels or a fiery pit? All he could say about the matter was that he wouldn't be able to stand an afterlife, he had, had enough with the first one he screwed up. No, if he were to die simple oblivion would suit him nicely, he might welcome it in fact. Etrius somehow managed to gently fall asleep in the van, but his dream was corrupted.

* * *

_The man got down a few steps before he was tackled by the monster, the pair toppled down the stairs in a disarray of limbs. They eventually halted, with the animal on top wrestling to bite the man with it's razor sharp teeth.  
"Get, the, fuck, off, me," he grunted._

_The duo struggled wildly, the savage bared it's teeth again,_ _"W-w-wait what are you- ARGHH," he wailed, the creature had buried it's teeth into his shoulder. Blood lightly dribbled down his shoulder, but it was also mixed with a bright shiny substance, the freak pulled it's chin away from his flesh, and licked its lips sadistically. The man felt his shoulder, the bright liquid was oozing from his shoulder, the flesh looked mangled beyond recognition. Was he going to die? Was the animal's bite poisonous? _

_The animal turned its back and fled down the stairs and out of sight before the man could even register what it had done, he stood up and walked down the stairs clutching his shoulder. He could just see the monster fleeing into the darkness surrounding the alter, where the hell was he? How had he last gotten there? Just what the _hell _was happening? As he stumbled down the stairs, he could feel his own life force ebbing away._

_His vision became blurry, his energy was being sucked out of him like a vacuum cleaner, which made walking feel like running a marathon. Progress had become ever so tiring, more than once he had fallen over from the sheer lack of persistence, he couldn't even think straight, his thoughts were muddled up and too difficult to produce. Inevitably, his will gave out, he collapsed down the stairs, rolling right down to the base of the alter.  
__He lay motionless, with the glowing eyes of thousands glaring right at his lifeless form._

* * *

The General scowled as he scanned the mission report came back, after the first failed attempt to take Etrius, he had been forced to send ten additional men a few weeks afterwards to properly subdue him. A long list of horrific injuries spanned across his laptop's screen. The most severe case was being blinded but apart from that, everything else on the list was fully treatable, The General had attempted to change Etrius' personality before, to make him human. But it had never worked, that was Etrius would always be, a killer, efficient and uncontrollable, very tragic.

The General sighed which relinquished the smoke from a cigar he had been smoking, most people would say that smoking at his age was stupid, but it was also stupid to wait for one of the most violent people he had ever met, brought into his office when he was unarmed. It had taken a special sort of crazy to have taken on his job. However, one thing he couldn't deny about Etrius was that his tantrums and excessively aggressive actions made drill sergeants think twice before making Etrius do a 'lap around the obstacle course'.

He huffed another mouthful of smoke, he was getting too old and melodramatic to force Etrius to do missions, and even worse, on this one Etrius was had been taken to a secret facility, and Etrius hated deceit. But he was out of options, years ago when Etrius had proved to be ruthless, The General had convinced himself that his top soldier was necessary, a necessary evil.

But then? With no fewer than seventeen of his men having to be medically discharged because of Etrius' antics. And that wasn't including all of the 'unofficial' happenings, like Barclay, The General would never forget what Etrius had mentally done to that poor sap. He had doubted his decision to make Etrius his 'favourite,' as some of the Etrius' jealous associates assumed. The General speculated whether they had been correct, thinking back, Etrius _had _gotten special treatment.

He was always willing to let Etrius bend the rules a bit, nothing serious, but if he hadn't had an almost perfect mission success rate, then he would be treated very differently. In fact The General had stepped in once or twice to stop Etrius being sentenced with a dishonourable discharge and possible jail time, he had truly committed some heinous crimes. But Vozrozhdeniya had been the final straw, Etrius' discharge had been the result of the biggest of his crimes, and that was where The General drew the line, just before chaos.

Yes, he dearly regretted everything he had done to Etrius, and he was sure that a lot more regret and guilt was going to follow the last assignment. The General was certain of this. But he had tried all of his usual tricks for this one, all complete failures, he couldn't risk sending in any more of his troops to face certain death. Oh, too much depressive talk, even for him. The General had many liver spots on his face and wrinkles, and every time he ran for too long he felt like he'd aged thirty years.

A green beret rested upon his bald head, the beret had his General emblem pinned to it. The General was clean cut and could remember the regulations and protocol word for word, The General tore himself away from his laptop to view his office, a small wooden room with a nice desk with matching wood for the walls and door, a water bubbler stood next to the door, a ridiculously expensive carpet supported everything and a fan swinging lazily was the only thing sweeping away the smoke.

Apart from The General's laptop the only source of light were two horizontal windows on the left with the blinds half closed. Along with his computer, the General's desk contained a couple of folders with a custom designed, '_C' _the logo for the castle project and there was also an ashtray for the General. The General himself was in his late sixties, not much older than Etrius when he thought about it mentally at least, but Etrius undeniably looked as old as him now.

The missions, the deaths had actually made an impact on him; stress gives a bad outcome for your life. This was one of the few things that surprised The General concerning Etrius. He had always assumed that Etrius was cold and heartless, but evidently there was still some good in him. The General could hear heavy footsteps approaching, better brace himself.

A livid Etrius stepped in with his shoulders hunched and hand cuffs attached to his wrists, The General slipped his laptop in a filing cabinet connected to the desk, he didn't want to give Etrius anything to throw at him or break. Etrius had shaved and didn't smell of liquor or smoke anymore, in fact it Etrius reminded The General a little bit of himself, that was until he opened his mouth.

"Ah, long time no see," The General always started off politely diplomacy was the key here.  
"Do you realise I could break these damn things as easy as your _neck_," Etrius threatened completely disregarding The General's civilised manner, Etrius had given his warning in the elevator and he planned to do it.

Etrius wasn't going to forget Rebirth anytime soon, but he wouldn't bring it up, The General was well aware of his blunder but he had benefited from it, in fact Etrius had always doubted whether it had been a blunder at all. Etrius' sore throat and other health troubles had been dealt with, all except his depression; his main physical problems were the most recent ones in the van, some of which were still tender.

"Yes but it was to see if you'd cooperate or not, retirement made you soft or something?" Damn! He had slipped he'd have to be more careful with the diplomatic speech.  
"What do you want?" Etrius wanted to make it clear that The General's persuasion was not welcome.  
And he thought he'd been doing quite a good job of it, but Etrius knew The General, he wasn't going to give up that easily, whatever bullshit that The General thought was important, meant that he'd press the matter.

"Same old Etrius straight to business, eh? Ok I'll level, The General may as well get it over and done with, "I'm having some problems Etrius, ever since you left I haven't had a single reliable man for, those kinds of missions you're notorious of. You are the only man in this one."  
Etrius had known from the beginning this was the case and he wouldn't stand for it.

"You know I'm retired, I don't do this anymore," Etrius liked to believe that he had willingly retired; it saved his touchy feely nonsense that he felt.  
"You don't really have much of a choice in this one Etrius," The General definitely understated that.  
"Believe me I do," Etrius could feel the hatred flowing through his veins, he contorted his face and bit his lip to stop him leaping at The General.

"You're the only man on Earth who could possible accomplish this kind of task," now _that _was perfectly true.  
"This shit again?" Etrius rolled his eyes, he had, had people crawling up to him, admiring him, but he was far used to this and it wouldn't persuade him at all.  
"I'm serious as always," The General was going to tell Etrius as much as he could, trust had to be earned.

Etrius sneered disbelievingly, why did he have to put up with this stuff? Why? Damn it, why did his life suck so badly?  
"Do you believe in different dimensions?"  
Etrius sighed but didn't say anything, good The General thought.

"For a long time theories of parallel universes have existed," The General puffed his cigar while fumbling with the folders, "Places where the laws of nature don't necessarily have to be the same as here."  
Etrius couldn't dismiss what he was hearing, The General had gone senile, but he still let him talk, admittedly partially interested.

Behind the desk, he opened one of the folders with the '_C_' on it, revealing photos of a muddy grey landscape with tall mountains and a barren landscape.  
"These so called parallel universes are connected to us, no further away than the width of a shadow without us being able to see them or go into them," it would sound ludicrous now, but Etrius had no idea what he was stepping into, it obviously showed now.

"Someone's been to crazy town," he rolled his eyes again, what a nut.  
"Four months ago a research team managed, for the first time, to open a link between two universes. Ours and one never seen by us," this sparked his interest.  
Etrius now looked more curious than angry, but Etrius' normal glare was still intact. Taking advantage, The General ploughed on.

"This newly discovered universe is a dark deserted world. After four months of exploring a lonely vast, a helicopter pilot spotted what, uh, seems to be a, uh, castle," The General scrolled to a photo from the folder showing a large, grey, brick castle. Five fat turrets spouted up from the structure, the tallest one being in the middle, it was the widest.

The main structure contained walls lined with cracks like it was frequently hit by earthquakes, the turrets had much less damage. The castle stood atop a massive grey mountain, with no way to walk up to the construction. Etrius looked started to look angry again and The General couldn't put his finger on why. Therefore he thought the best action he could do was to continue.

"A team of scientists were sent in for investigation, none of them were found again. There is something in that castle, something … evil," The General thought this might seal the deal.  
"I'm not some God damn archaeologist, stop wasting my time," Etrius shrugged his shoulders and huffed menacingly.  
"Etrius, someone must have built that castle, an ancient culture. We believe they used some sort of a-" The General smoked his cigar again, careful not to blow any smoke to Etrius, pissing him off, "-power. Using it as a world resource."

Etrius stared right into The General's eyes, wanting to hurt him, to make him suffer. But another part of his mind was doubtful, nearly agreeing that The General might be making a good call here.  
"Imagine yourself what would happen if mankind got its hands on that," The General's eyes widened a bit when he said this, this conversation could very well determine the fate of-

His thoughts were cut short as Etrius gave a positive sign of acceptance by sighing lightly, and looking at the ground and back up, obviously in deep thought.  
"We don't need to fight about Earth's last resources. No one's struck oil for decades, the rainforests are nearly gone, and the oceans are flooding cities. Earth is _dying. _This power resource is our, last hope," the melodramatic part of him kicked in, but it paid off.

Etrius only looked hesitant, that was all he needed from him.  
"All of your old team members have already been sent in. They're waiting for you, consider yourself reinstated … _Commander_."

* * *

After The General's persuasion, he had given Etrius the key to his cuffs, a few directions and saluted him out. Etrius hunched out of the office and back into the bare, white walled corridor. Etrius wished that for once he could just sit back and watch this play out on the news. And he couldn't shake off the feeling that Etrius was walking blind on this one, normally Etrius spent hours talking to The General of what he was going to do in a mission, but with this time he had spent about ten minutes.

What was going on? Where was he? What happened to the science team? Why had his old team agreed to this? Why couldn't his team handle the mission without him? He hunched down the hall way with the questions buzzing in his head, The General's directions brought him to a single door which lead to a garage. The surrounding background was a muddy grey landscape with soaring mountain peaks … wait, these matched the pictures in The General's folder!

Etrius' eyes widened, he had been in a different dimension for almost a day and he hadn't noticed. Hastily, he searched his body checking for anything that was different, pockets were uprooted, hair was ruffled and his reflection was viewed. When he was satisfied that he was unchanged, Etrius scanned the garage with wide eyes, still stunned. He was in quite a large garage filled with armed humvees, armour plated trucks, and a scarce amount of tanks.

A young Warrant Officer waved him over by one of the humvees, unlike the other humvees, this one was unarmed, that was odd. If the scientists had gone missing, why was he getting no firepower along with being blind? The mission had made nos sense.  
"Sir," the officer beside the humvee saluted.  
"Why isn't this vehicle armed?" Etrius didn't return the salute.

"I was told this is a recon mission sir," the officer replied without a breath of untruthfulness.  
"What? Recon, but-" Etrius sighed and gave up, he remembered that this was something The General would do.  
Evaluation, to know if Etrius had gone stale from his near perfect reputation, the best way to test this would be to put him in the worst possible situation, that was how The General thought anyway.

"What weapons _are_ we getting?" Etrius wanted to know exactly how bad it was.  
Now the officer recognised Etrius' tone of exasperation.  
"I will give you support outside the construction, you will be getting a saber sir," the officer tried to not to share Etrius' concern.

Lloyd had been better had using the saber swords, but it didn't mean that he'd had no experience, what bugged him was that he'd have to rely on someone not in his elite team. The General had made a tall order there, he detested depending on other people, Etrius felt that with him not being in shape, the mission was doomed to fail.  
"Let's go, you drive" he just had to accept the inevitable.

Etrius hopped into the back seat, not wanting to encourage conversation by sitting in the passenger seat. The sword and the officer's assault rifle were already stacked on the floor in the back. The interior was like any typical humvee, dark, well protected and not many structural weaknesses. Gizmos and gadgets sprung up on the dashboard, most of which Etrius hadn't know what their function was, he knew how to drive it that was where his vehicle expertise ended.

It took considerable will to not pull rank on the officer and steal the rifle for himself, but if he did The General wouldn't see this as 'passing.' Etrius would have to undergo a similar test, perhaps even harder. Etrius couldn't help but ponder on what wasdisconcerting. He had the unwelcome feeling of dread, Etrius wasn't as much in shape has he had been a few months before, his combat skills would be rusty and the blind feeling left him very much in doubt.

Somewhere along the mission to the castle, Etrius was sure either he or the officer was going to be killed. And he was quite sure that the officer had a better chance, he didn't have to come in the castle, was better equipped and he had been in training this morning. Etrius however had to climb a mountain to get to the castle, collect anything in the castle worth acquiring, kill whatever had murdered the science team, and he hadn't had any sort of mental or physical training in months.

Everything about the mission reeked of intrigue and confidentiality, the lingering questions popped back into Etrius' head it had been then when he'd finally gotten a chance to ponder them. How was something this big, kept a secret? Why was The General risking Etrius' life on this mission so he could evaluate his combat skills? And the biggest ones popped into his head, who built the castles? Why did the creators make the castles hostile? How did scientists manage to make a portal to a different dimension? What wasn't The General telling him?

The thoughts buzzed in his head like angry wasps, each getting angrier when it didn't get what it wanted, wasps wanted a sting on the thing that had annoyed it, a question desired and answer. Etrius couldn't bet on anyone thinking about it as much as he had though, he could only hope that this mission went without a hitch, a tall order but nothing was impossible.

Tires spun over concrete, a garage door somehow opened by itself and the humvee started the arduous journey. Etrius started to wish that the engine wasn't as loud, so that he could chew over the question, but then again that had seemed pointless because even if he guessed the answer to them, he had no way of telling whether the answer was correct. The officer obviously wouldn't know anything more than he did, grunts were just told to point and shoot, any questions and you cleaned toilets with your tongue, simple.

As you rose through the ranks you encountered varying amounts of red tape, a higher pay grade, but you'd need a fuck ton of patience. As the vehicle sped out of the facility, Etrius tried to get a clear look through the rear windscreen, but the humvee's tiny windows and 'safety first' design rendered Etrius to see barely any of the facility he had exited. Sighing he wondered how he could pass the time, it would certainly be a long journey.


	2. Chapter 2 - Nor Hell Nor Fury

**Two - Nor Hell Nor Fury**

Etrius sat in the back of the humvee, staring out of the window to the dreary grey scenery, and had been doing so for hours. Why couldn't they just use a chopper? Why? Oh that's right because I've got some old fart is using me, to get him some glory. Meanwhile Etrius remained in a shit hole. Etrius wished he had a cigarette, it eased the tension.  
"I can see the mountain sir!" the officer was driving, and had to shout over the loud engine.

Etrius leaned forward to get a view through the front view. The mountain had been massive in the photo, but seeing it in person was truly astonishing. It wasn't tall, but immeasurably wide, it already almost blocked out all view from the front screen. Etrius slid the sword over his back; it looked like only a few more minutes before he had to climb that monster.

Etrius had, had to climb harder obstacles, but with all of the bigger ones he had safety equipment, in fact on almost all of those climbs he'd used at least safety ropes. But still, how hard could it be? It turned out that there was a deep, but not wide, chasm, something Etrius would have to jump over.

Etrius wasn't able to look down half of the abyss, it was just so dark, and the sun on this world was so weak. Barely any light made the landscape visible. The humvee pulled over a few feet away from the edge. As Etrius surveyed the mountain, the officer was loading an assault rifle, placing on a scope to replace the iron sights, loading individual shells into a magazine before slipping it into the rifle, and finally, switching the safety switch from on, off and then back to on.

As Etrius observed the mountain closer, it seemed impossible for him to climb, he was middle aged, wasn't he supposed to be calming down and stuff like that? He outstretched his hand across the chasm so that his fingertips rubbed scraped against the rock; it crumbled easily beneath his fingers. This was going to be much harder than he had previously thought. Not only that, but the mountain was riddled with cracks and crevices, one wrong move could set up a chain reaction, ultimately leading to his death.

Etrius walked back a few yards, and then sprinted to the colossus, He slammed into the mountain, but the handhold of rock he'd grasped was crumbling. Slowly he moved his left hand up and grabbed another handhold. The officer had stopped temporarily to watch the old man climb a mountain that people half his age would call a challenge, but looks could be deceiving. While Etrius was climbing quite quickly, the more he moved upwards the harder it took to grab another hand or foot hold. One more, he kept telling himself, just one more and you'll be up.

His joints were starting to get stiff, and a few times his fingers weren't strong enough to hold onto the rock, resulting in a perilous, but slow, slide down a few feet. After what felt like months, Etrius grasped the rock at the peak, barely able to pull up his weight with both of his arms. He wasn't breathless, but exhausted. He felt like he had just ran a marathon. Etrius' blue eyes shone against the little light source parted through the dense clouds.

The diameter of the construction must have been huge; Etrius could have fitted two large houses in it. Seeing the castle in person was amazing, he wondered how medieval men in Etrius' dimension had built one with their bare hands. Up close Etrius could see all of the aging the castle had to endure. He was no archaeologist, but even he could see that the castle had to have withstood centuries. He wondered why the exterior was so similar to castles in their world.

He confidently swept inside the building, to reveal a completely bare room. It was enormous, yes, but only cracks and centuries of decay were held inside these walls. A beam of light illuminated a small column in the middle of the room, when Etrius sealed the door behind him, he immediately felt chills at the back of his neck. He spun around, to find nothing lurking in these walls. Faint whispering began to emanate from the walls.

Etrius couldn't make out what they were saying, but goose bumps were perking up all over his body. What was going on? Who was saying that? Etrius was slightly tempted to call out for the whispers to stop hiding like a bunch of wusses. But the confidence evaporated faster than it had come, the whispers were … goading him. He couldn't tell what though. He just knew that it was saying something to him.

Etrius' eyes slowly widened, he could feel something a presence, it made him want to run out of the castle screaming, but something made him proceed. His conscious? His will? All he knew was that the column was coming into focus. Etrius fingers started to tingle and a few times involuntarily twitch. What was going on? Who built this castle? How had he, in less than a day, be persuaded to run blind into a different dimension?

Those questions lingered with the mutterings from the walls, Etrius was getting butterflies, but a scarlet, dusty book resting mid page on a platform on the column caught his attention. The writing inside contained strange symbols, unlike anything he's ever seen. Complicated writings were scrawled all over the book, the same symbols weren't on the cover, instead lay a strange pattern of brown rectangles and a white circle in the centre of the pattern.

Etrius stopped at the pillar, surveying the book. He wasn't sure whether or not he should touch it, but the whispers were getting louder, he could almost make them out now, he just wanted to leave, to get out of this place and as far away as he could. His fingertips barely brushed the surface of a page before he heard something sniffle in the darkness on the other side of the room.

A pair glowing yellow eyes were now staring across at him, acting on instinct Etrius swept up the book and sprinted for the door. He could hear the thing close behind him, not daring to look over his shoulder to see what it looked like. He burst through the door, he felt relieved, but heat washed over him, he looked back and saw his view dominated by a thick fire.

Etrius sprinted to the edge of the mountain, the fire was getting closer, nothing for it. He leapt off of the edge, he could hear the officer yelling below, and the book was safely tucked in his arm for the entire fall. He hit the ground with a thud; everything felt like a truckload of bricks had just been dumped on him.

Etrius felt terrible, he was quite sure that everything in his body needed replacing, but now when he was focusing on what he had just done; he knew what the whispers had been saying. Just three words over, and over again. 'The Wise One,' Etrius just wanted to sleep now, fight the thing later. Even in his head the words sounded stupid.

Gunshots echoed around him, Etrius forced his eyes open to see the book lying just a bit away, flecks of his blood on the cover.  
"ARGHHH!" the officer was being torn apart by- By what was unmistakably a massive green serpent, glowing yellow yes with horns.

If Etrius were to call it anything he'd call it a dragon, but a description would point to an enlarged snake with horns. Dark green scales rippled all over its enormous body, it was wide as a tree trunk and it was huge, Etrius couldn't think of any word to describe it, it was a big as … well, a massive green serpent. Rows of jagged spikes were erected every few inches; the spikes were about as tall as Etrius' wrist to elbow.

The officer's corpse lay in a pool of blood, but the rifle was intact. Etrius dived for the gun and fired at the beast. It screeched in agony, but it was only wounded before clicks were sounding from the rifle. Etrius had no time to check for magazines on the officer. He threw away the gun and thought rapidly. It was only a matter of time before the dragon attacked again; it was already attempting to get up.

If only he had another weapon, wait. He did, how could he forget the long, sharp, serrated sword on his back? Etrius evaluated the scenario. The only way for him to kill it would be to find a place where it couldn't attack, and he could finish it off. Hacking and slashing would do no good; he doubted whether he could do anything before it swatted him away.

Driving away would do no good because it was much faster than him. Think! If only he could revert back to when he had been climbing the mountain … Wait ... Climbing! He would climb it, and stab it to death. It sounded crazy, he ran through years of experience, but this was the only way with a ray of hope beaming down in his existence. He only had so much time before it could fight again.

Etrius dashed madly to the serpent, this had success written all over it. He ascended it's neck using it's green scales as handholds, he doubted whether it liked having humans jump onto it's back and stick their hands into its body, which was why it feebly tried to shake him off when, each shake was stronger than the last, he didn't have long. When he got to the top, Etrius knew he didn't have much time to act.

But then, of all the moments, it reared its scaly body vertically, as it did so it let out a sorrowful pained cry. It's hide wasn't designed to withstand bullets. Obviously, because of this being a different dimension. Taken by surprise, Etrius could only yelp as the beast raised itself. Relying on instinct he stabbed his sword into the monster's flesh, Etrius held tightly onto the handle as the blade slid down the body going down faster and faster.

He yelled insanely, the only thing he could see was blurry green, he was going down so fast, it was more thrilling than any roller coaster he had ever been on, he could say that for sure. He gritted his teeth to block out his fear, this was nuts! Blood spurted into Etrius eyes, but he had no arms left to wipe it off and the sword needed little direction to handle through the brute, it cut cleanly and easily.

Ultimately it gave a final earsplitting roar when Etrius reached slid down the bottom, relying on the curve between it's upper body and it's torso on the ground, to not fall to his death. The serpent crashed to the ground with an immense 'crash!' Vibrating the ground beneath him, and denting the stone on impact. Etrius ripped the saber brutally out, the entire blade had gone into it.

Looking across, Etrius saw that the sword's fine line must have gone in between it's rib cage for him not to have gotten his sword snagged, which would have been fatal for him. The wound oozed blood down it's lilac scales and creating small puddles underneath it. He stared down at his handiwork disbelievingly, that was by far his greatest (and strangest) career moment. Etrius holstered the sword and walked for the humvee, he tried to suppress what he had accomplished, but this was the most epic thing he had ever done, slid down a massive green lizard thing while simultaneously killing it. Incredible!

He was so optimistic it was like the past few months had never happened, nothing could ruin this moment of glory. Slowly, very slowly he started to smile, he never thought he would again but there he was grinning like an idiot.

He grabbed the dead officer by the legs and heaved the corpse toward the vehicle, at dead weight the body was a challenge, especially with Etrius' dwindling body mass. Whether he liked it or not he was getting old, there was no way he could keep doing this. Yeah, no the grin was gone and replaced with the normal 'Etrius' scowl, slapped and slathered across his face.

Etrius was more likely to die on the castle project than on any other operation but he couldn't shake off the feeling that before The General's goons had shown up at his door, he would have tried to legally kill people again, illegally kill people, or just fuck it and off himself. The were no words to describe how much that thought haunted him now, he was being a hypocrite yes, but now that he really had time to focus on it he wouldn't have been able to do it.  
No matter how committed or willing he had been, life was just simply too short to-

Etrius sighed deeply, almost dropping the body. He sounded like The General, all melodramatic and shit. Was this what age did to you? Make you some sort of person to be laughed at and spend your 'golden years' in shame? Damn! He couldn't escape it! He didn't want to turn into The General, but there was something going on inside him. No one had ever told him in human anatomy class way back in middle school.

They just said you get middle aged, you'll have a mid life crisis and usually … bam! School though, that seemed like a very long time ago, it had been before combat had taught him a life lesson. Etrius couldn't remember anything from those days. Etrius snorted, he hadn't bothered memorising the best years of his life.

He felt like he had just missed a great opportunity, why had he ever thought that joining the military would be a good idea? The body was starting to reek, Etrius used the collar of his uniform to cover his mouth and nose as he dragged the corpse toward the vehicle. The further he dragged it, the further away the humvee seemed to be. A few feet away from his destination he collapsed onto the gravel, this used to be so easy. Where had it all gone?

Again, Etrius took the ankles and heaved the body into the humvee. Time to get the hell out of here.

* * *

Dr. Romanov was waiting eagerly for the return of Etrius; he wanted a blow by blow account about everything he saw. Romanov was in the science wing, where all of the scientific experts in the Castle Project were researching. It was a large room with a wide desk attached to all of the walls except for the wall with the door, a shelf under the desk was lined with multicoloured books.

The room was packed with scientists, people in lab coats and wearing spectacles. Romanov himself was one of the lab coated – spectacles wearers, but he was different. Unlike the others he was a bit younger than the rest of the experts, around his mid-fifties; he had shoulder length hair, a grey toothbrush moustache and a foreign accent. Romanov was quite tall and skinny and was fully committed to his work, no close friends or family. Yes, he _was_ quite different to the other scientists.

The first successful manned mission to the castle made him grin with excitement. It would end up with months, or years of studying but Romanov liked it that way more work, more things to discover. Not only that but one soldier lived and one died! It would be fascinating to perform an autopsy on the corpse and interview the survivor. Not to mention the 'dragon,' oh yes this would be exciting !

He felt that it was an honour to work on the project, an opinion felt by many of the scientists. The General had already called him to tell him to come to his office to have a look at some sort of artefact; he said it was a book. Romanov was finishing his research as quickly as possible; he was fervently going through all the possibilities on what the book could mean. This could be the most significant discovery in human history.

* * *

Yet again, Etrius went down the white walled corridor of the facility, this time however people were walking through the hall as well as him. This turned out to be a downside though. Etrius' uniform was covered with dragon and human gore, he had a blood-stained sword on his back, and was carrying a mystical red book, so people stared at him. It was starting to get a bit aggravating, wait hadn't he passed here before?

How couldn't he be sure, every damn thing looked the same! Not one sign or even a noticeable feature to know where he was, now that he was standing around looking either way figuring out which way to go everyone was staring at him all the more. He wished they would stop, no seriously!  
"What the hell are you looking at?" Etrius challenged a lab coated person who had looked back at him.

The man walked faster down the hall, afraid to talk to Etrius. His body was sore too, the fall made him feel like he had been beaten up by a gorilla and been forced to walk.  
"Etrius?"  
Etrius swung around to face the person who had spoken. It had been a few months, but Lloyd hadn't changed a bit, he was just over the average age for an elite soldier, late forties.

No nothing had changed, not his short, dark brunette, his five o'clock shadow flecked with white, his battle hardened face, his lean and muscular figure, or his graceful stance, always ready for a fight. Lloyd always had an air of reluctance around him, not sulking, but just accepting without a second opinion.  
"Nice to see someone I know," Etrius shook Lloyd's hand.

"What's with the blood, and I thought you were discharged," Lloyd smiled, but as usual it didn't reach his eyes.  
"Reinstated, and I just went to the castle. Do you know where The General's office is?" Etrius tried to say this as quickly as possible as though this would soften the impact; he didn't want any awkward questions, besides the last thing was to stand around talking while his bones melted.

"Yeah, I know where it is. I'll show you," Lloyd continued down the corridor with Etrius alongside.  
Good old Lloyd, of course he remembered what pissed him off.  
"I didn't think you'd work for The General, you hated him," Etrius never thought he would see Lloyd working for The General voluntarily, or maybe he'd been kidnapped like Etrius.

"I got unlucky, with a lot of strings attached," Lloyd's voice was normally a bit louder than a whisper, but this time he was even quieter, and was determinedly staring ahead.  
Etrius opened his mouth to ask what he meant, but then he remembered that Lloyd didn't pry at him with annoying questions so he kept his trap shut.  
Still he hated secrets, especially with people he knew. Etrius had picked up that it would be unwise to snap at Lloyd, but he couldn't help but clench his knuckles.

The rest of the walk was in silence, apart from Etrius gritting his teeth occasionally, which Lloyd politely ignored. Lloyd never like to talk, why should he start to now? But Etrius was overwhelmed with curiosity and was about to ask what was going on, but then The General's familiar wooden door stood out amongst the deep white.  
"Thanks Lloyd, I'll talk to you later," Etrius was bitter and disappointed that he never got ask Lloyd, but that could wait. For now at least.

"Good luck," Lloyd opened the door for Etrius.  
"Etrius, what happened?" The General was curious, but wanted to contain it as much as he could, for fear of intimidating Etrius.  
"Look shut up and listen," it felt so good to snap at The General, it gave him a small warm feeling, "I got a dead body in the trunk and I want to get him to a morgue before he ruins the humvee."

"What, did the officer die? What happened?" The General repeated.  
Etrius could feel the hate now, he was trying to minimise his temper ever since he started going to the castle, but he didn't want to explain what happened, why he couldn't at least sit down on a chair. It made no sense to have an office without more than one chair.

"Is there something I could sit on? My bones are killing me," Etrius could feel his legs going numb.  
The General left and brought back a seat, he didn't care where he got it from he just wanted to rest. Etrius collapsed onto the chair and passed the book over to The General.  
"What's this?" The General was studying the book remaining puzzled as he studied the symbols.

"Thought you could tell me," Etrius cared about the mystery of the castles, but what would anyone else care about in _his_ situation? Nearly getting shredded by a gigantic serpent, falling off a mountain and being able to walk after that. Or a stupid red book? Etrius hesitantly started explaining exactly what had happened. Afterwards The General called someone to collect the body from the humvee, and also Dr Romanov, if anyone would be able to tell them about what the book's significance it was him.

* * *

Romanov's fast walk down the hall had turned into a jog; he just couldn't wait to see it. By the time he reached The General's door he was out of breath and panting, Romanov hunched over a wall, panting heavily. Once he regained his composure, Romanov stepped in to see something he didn't expect. A man as old as The General, sat in front of him, with a blood-stained sword hanging in between his shoulder blades, a red covered book with shapes on the front cover, and blood swept across him.

It could only be Etrius, the man who had gone into the castle, The General had warned him to be extra careful and polite, he had said that Etrius had a nasty temper, and a mistrust for everyone.

"Hello, I'm zee scientivic lead of the Castle Project, Dr. Romanov," he held out his hand and made an attempt to smile, until he saw Etrius' face slowly cringe.  
"How do you know my name? Have we met?" Etrius questioned suspiciously turning around to face him.  
Romanov caught a glimpse of The General; he was shaking his head vigorously.

"Err … Ze- zee General has told me all about you," Etrius swung around to The General who seemed to be sliding down his chair, "I- I mean vell, n- nothing bad, just vot you were going to be doing, a- and your history."  
Every word Romanov said it made the condition worse, The General was still sliding down his chair, Etrius looked more and more incensed, and Romanov was going slightly red around his cheeks.

"Tell Romanov what you told me," The General was tried to change the subject, as he straightened himself up.  
"_You_ tell him," Etrius growled before making for the door.  
Romanov put his hand on Etrius' shoulder stopping him ("Get your hand off me"), "Relax I just need the vartefact and your svord for research."

Etrius twisted his face more; he dropped the book on the ground and stabbed the saber through the carpet, scraping Romanv's shoe, before he stormed out. Romanov lightly face palmed himself and sighed. Clearly, he was less than pleased in Etrius' attitude.  
"Well … he grows on you," The General was trying to excuse Etrius, but he was clutching at straws.

Romanov picked up the book and studied it, "Fashinating," he muttered.  
"Can you see what language it is?" The General wanted to know what they were dealing with.

"No, no," Romanov flipped through the pages seeing that all of them contained the strange writing, "I saw a few symbols that slightly resembled some ancient cultures, but if it were bvased off of that language the rest of the symbols conflict with it. I'll need more data for anything conclusive. Could you get this sword out, please?"  
The General slid the sword out, bloody Etrius, that carpet must have cost a fortune. Romanov didn't notice The General's grimace, he was focusing entirely on the book.

"Here, Doctor," The General handed over the blade which Romanov accepted after putting the book on The General's desk.  
Romanov inspected the sword from different angles; eventually he sliced a small cut forefinger and examining the cut. Romanov inspected the cut, while The General was questioning Romanov's mental stability.

"What are you-"  
"Just seeing iv the 'dragon's' blood does anyving different," Romanov had expected The General to ask something of this nature, understandable.  
When Romanov had stared at the cut for a few minutes and not seen anything remarkable, he resumed surveying the saber, he couldn't help but feel a little bit disappointed about the cut.

"Later, could you send the body up to the surgery for an autopsy. And the sword to forensics?" Romanov requested.  
When Romanov was satisfied with the eye level examination, he departed leaving The General alone.  
Nothing was ever boring with Etrius, The General thought, all the time he was doing something unexpected and dangerous.

The General slowly sat down on his chair and opening up his laptop to file a report. He sighed, what was the point in filing it? He'd just get off the hook again as usual; he was too much of a valuable resource to give up just like that. He had to follow his own rules, The General tapped away on his keyboard, describing the situation and what Etrius had done for what felt like the millionth time.

The General lit a cigar and puffed out the smoke, watching it dissipate from the fan. Smoking always relaxed him, something he needed at his age. Sometimes he amused himself with settling down somewhere, but in the end he convinced himself that this was what he wanted to do for the rest of his life. He was uninterested in anything else, perhaps he'd finish the castle project and-

No, the castles were just the beginning; he knew what was to come next. This culture not only had to be analysed and understood, but also to have humanity's best interests satisfied. Steadily The General finished the report, word by word he slightly exaggerated what happened so that the incident would sound serious, but he knew that the chances of that would be less than slim.

The General believed that the Forward Operating Base already had a shortcut on their keyboard to report one of Etrius' temper flairs.


	3. Chapter 3 - A Fiery Last Breath

**Three – A Fiery Last Breath**

_Josiah sat at his identical blue table, furiously copying down everything that his teacher was writing. The whole class was filled with high school students with their heads bowed over their books, speeding though pages of work. In fact it looked like a regular classroom, the white board was cluttered with complex mathematical symbols and equations which the teacher was adding even more to, a faint summer breeze made everyone eager to get outside, but the clock always seemed to go twice as slow as normal, especially in a maths lesson. _

_Josiah thought that no matter the teacher, math class was always the biggest sack of turd on his timetable, it was just insanely boring and difficult, and half of the things weren't even required for what he wanted to do._

_Seventy minutes? More like seventy minutes where you individually rip off your finger nails. __Josiah's maths teacher was that day had been a relief teacher, regularly a HPE teacher, a Mr Ottone. __In fact it seemed strange that they had gotten a relief teacher that was already teaching them in HPE. More to the point, why was a HPE teacher filling them in one maths? It seemed a bit odd was all._

_Every inch of the teacher roared HPE, a five o'clock shadow spread across his strong chin, dark brown hair that swept everywhere. But most notably, a muscular and hulking figure, hands the size of plates, a stomach as hard as metal, a neck thick as … well you got the point. __But he was arrogant, he strutted through corridors with his chest thrust out so far you'd think that his nipples were attached to a pair of charging elephants, in fact Josiah could only think of one person who rivalled his relief teacher's ego, Etrius.  
_

_Etrius was the smartest, wittiest and most athletic person Josiah knew. Sadly all of this had gone to his head. Etrius swaggered around the room like he'd just been crowned Supreme Overlord of the Universe. Teachers and students alike admired him, but Josiah thought that he saw through him. He felt that Etrius was so smug that one day his head would become so swollen and inflated that he'd just have to drag it along the ground with him._

_Josiah hated it when his parents compared him to Etrius; it was just so frustrating that every time Josiah and Etrius were in the same room, it was as if Josiah didn't even exist. Etrius was busily chattering with his friend, Ivan. They were the closest of friends, inseparable. You'd hardly see them without each other's company. Josiah loathed the pair of them, he had convinced himself that it wasn't jealousy, but deep inside envy fuelled the fire.  
_

_Etrius gained popularity by making fun of people, sometimes the socially awkward geeks or teachers. Josiah had to admit that events like these were quite entertaining, his personal favourite had been when his least favourite teacher had been reduced to tears, and Etrius had gotten suspended. A win, win. Etrius looked supremely haughty right then, and it wasn't a surprise to the class when he struck his hand up. _

_I__f Josiah was much mistaken Etrius was about to put this teacher to shame, a pity, as bigheaded as Mr Ottone had been, at least Josiah enjoyed his HPE lessons.  
_"_Etrius," Ottone started, "I don't have time to wipe your bott__om, ask your … _intelligent _friend, Ivan to help you."  
__The teacher had just swung around to face Etrius, glaring at him with an overconfident grin; Josiah had doubts about this time, the teacher made a hobby of bursting popular students' reputations so Josiah was unsure whether Etrius would be able to pull this one off._

"_No sir," Josiah was at a loss for why Etrius' ego didn't burst out of his chest.  
__Josiah's eyes narrowed as he noticed a subtle movement under Etrius' desk, a shift of shadow upon shadow, but he knew what he'd seen.  
_"_Passing notes?" The Teacher looked as if it was raining candy.  
_

_In one stride, Mr Ottone snatched the paper out of Etrius' hand just before he could throw it out the window. Yes, Josiah was about to witness another one of Etrius' failed attempts to bolster his popularity.  
_"_Hey Ivan," The Teacher read out as Etrius went defiantly pink, "I watched that Nude Nuns with Big Guns movie, it was epic," Ottone was containing a chuckle himself as he pocketed the note.  
_

_The class was ringing with laughter as Ivan slid down his chair, but oddly Etrius remained upright and focused, this made Josiah a bit nervous.  
_"_Actually sir," everyone knew what was coming next, "I was browsing your internet history the other day."  
__When Etrius paused the class was quiet, invasion of a teacher's privacy could mean instant expulsion, and no one doubted whether Etrius had actually done this or not.  
_

_Josiah personally wouldn't put it past Etrius to mug his first born child just so he could get some popularity.  
_"_Very stimulating, I was very intrigued with the video, How to Shave Your Own Butt Pubes. I was captivated by why you would read, top ten sexiest men," Etrius was no longer pink, but breathless as to how much his reputation would be boosted.  
_

_Josiah found this information hilarious and laughed along with the rest but deep down he gave an explosive moan, Etrius would continue to overshadow him. The class anticipated a comical rebuttal from The Teacher's end, but he was so shocked he just gaped vaguely in Etrius' direction. A retort would have been favourable to him, because Etrius wasn't done yet.  
_

"_And my personal favourite, an anonymous email you sent to a Jamaican woman with dreadlocks, she refused to talk to you after you asked whether her hair moved," Etrius was sure that repercussions would follow, but at that moment his face was red as though the laughter building up inside him was red.  
__Josiah had never been a fan of Etrius, but he pitied Etrius for the repercussions that would follow._

* * *

And as Etrius slammed the door to The General's office, Etrius couldn't remember a single shred of what had happened all those years ago. Etrius was so mad that he didn't notice Lloyd leaning against the wall just outside.  
"Hey," it seemed as though Lloyd had been waiting to finish up.

Etrius revolved around to see who had spoken, "Lloyd, I didn't know you'd be waiting," he was initially accusatory but let it slip; he'd just be taking out his anger from The General into Lloyd.  
"I need to show you something," Lloyd unpeeled himself from the wall.  
Show him? Show him, what?

"We have a new living area, Boomer should be just waking up," Lloyd gave the impression that he'd read Etrius' mind.  
"Waking? What time is it exactly, no one told me," Now Etrius came to think of it, it a bit sloppy that he didn't know the time and hadn't noticed it.  
Lloyd beckoned Etrius to follow, "Well, no one knows. The clouds hide the sun all day; we just set the clocks to what it's like in our dimension."

Etrius wondered how much different everything was on this world, and then how anyone could navigate through the facility, everything looked exactly the same but Lloyd seemed to know exactly where he was going, not even undecided as to which fork to take.  
"How do you remember where to go?" he said after he forgot the route they were going through.

"It grows on you, and not all of the buildings are like this. This building is the Command Post, containing the scientific, political, strategic command and war room," Lloyd explained.  
Etrius was taken aback by how many branches sprouted from the castle project.  
"Political? War room? Why would we need those?" it seemed odd for a war room the resource war was raging between the third world countries in their dimension.  
"Political is more or less to keep foreign nations from sending in informants to see where billions of the Government's money is heading. They either do that from bribing, distraction or deceit," Lloyd answered.

The hall seemed to stretch forever, but this now seemed irrelevant to the size and scope of the castle project.  
"Why would foreign nations be interested in where we spend money?" Etrius had seen this happen before, but never something this direct.  
After Etrius had said this though, some passerbys looked meaningfully at the ground as they walked.

"You haven't heard?" Lloyd sounded uncharacteristically curious, and when Etrius shook his head Lloyd continued, "The resource war isn't just some scuffle between third world countries anymore, it's spread _everywhere_. In the months after you were discharged, the worst affected have resorted to slaughtering millions for drops of water, crumbs of food."  
Etrius' eyes widened so much that he looked like an anime character.

"What?! Is- it that bad?"  
"We're all on borrowed time here. Our nation will be next, we have the most resources and some countries have formed an alliance to kill us all," Lloyd dropped his voice again, this time in apprehension.

"But what about negotiating? Why didn't some countries try to share resources?" Etrius needed answers, had the whole fucking world turned upside down?  
"Some tried, but because one country was supplying for two, they both ran out and are at war with each other. After that no one shared, they hold out peace as long as they can before total annihilation," Lloyd's face fell; everything seemed so pointless, so bleak.

Etrius had become very philosophical, but never voiced his thoughts, and instead locking them up lessening his already short temper.  
What would happen if the world went into a nuclear winter? He remembered his time on Rebirth Island, ruptures in his suit, collapsing. Would dying from radiation feel any different to that time? He shivered at the thought; he wasn't sure he could go through the same torture on Rebirth and retain his sanity.

Lloyd pushed open a door, which took Etrius aback, because instead of stuffy corridors he was blasted with a chilly breeze. Finally outside it occurred to Etrius that he'd never had a good look at the facility; Etrius could see an array of buildings of all shapes and sizes without a clue for why they needed them all.  
The three buildings that stood out from where Etrius stood were, there was a squat highly fortified building with a colony of green tents surrounding it. He supposed that, that was the barracks.

Two gargantuan towers glittered prettily, illuminating the vast expanse of desert, it neon bright, but at the same time relaxingly peaceful. Like they were safe from everything, but that would be untrue, safety was a lie, making someone pretend that they were safe was the ultimate power. Utilising the power could make you a tyrant striking fear into hearts and souls.  
Damn, he was getting too deep again; he missed the days when it was just point and shoot, no questions or moral concerns. He focused on the facility again; it definitely wasn't that hard now because he'd just spotted the facility's most prominent feature, the portal.

A sea of shimmering blue light danced in between two massive oval shaped metal slabs. Streaks of lightning frequently struck inside of the sea of light, it all fit perfectly all that was missing was a heavenly harp tune.  
Etrius stared transfixed by the beautiful scene, this was all a safe haven from the resource war, but safety was a lie, he wouldn't let it take him over. He saw that a vast section of catwalks connected each building to each other, a dark red helipad sat atop one section of catwalk allowing easy access for flight.

Above and below him continued the vast array of catwalks, they were mesmerising and reminded Etrius of a spider web, except this spider web was five hundred times bigger than anything a spider could make.  
"Where are we going?" Etrius couldn't remember if Lloyd had said anything about their destination, his mind had been clouded with a potential apocalypse and the size of the castle project.

It was just too much to swallow at once, multiple voices spoke to him at once with unanswered questions again.  
Why didn't I keep up with the news? What if these are our final days and we're all just scurrying around, trying to fix a problem we can't solve? What if refugees have nowhere else to go but here? What happens if we're invaded? How long will this last? Is this just some blow over or are we genuinely going to die?

Nothing was answered, and the queries repeated themselves so often the words didn't sound like words anymore. Lloyd seemed unperturbed by what he had just said, and was walking as calmly as before. Etrius however had an empty expression, and found himself periodically stopping without realising, it was only when Lloyd asked if he was on drugs was when he stopped.

Using his mastery, he focused on the task at hand, and blocked out the questions. Etrius noticed that the helipads had choppers frequently landing and taking off all over the place, the constant noise was deafening, so relief flooded through him when Lloyd led him to a catwalk connected to one of the towers.  
"Why did you join?" Etrius hadn't wanted to ask Lloyd anything annoying, but he couldn't keep it locked up, he had enough locked up questions.

Lloyd didn't answer for a minute, and Etrius was convinced that he wasn't ever going to, but while Lloyd was opening up a door he replied.  
"It would be better for the others to explain with me, we each have different story."  
Lloyd pried the door open, which turned out to be an elevator. Etrius felt like Lloyd had 'done a Mass Effect,' by leaving him with more questions than answers.

In fact he was just about to snap until the there was an almighty 'whoosh!' And the lift jumped up knocking both of them onto the wall.  
"What the hell?!" It was one crazy thing after another; he wouldn't be able to take any more surprises.  
Lloyd, rather frustratingly, was calm about this as well.

"The towers are so big it that the lifts need to be really fast!" Lloyd had to yell over the elevator's engine.  
He was at a loss as to how Lloyd could yell at the top of his lungs and still sound serene. Etrius clenched his teeth, everything was going so fast he felt a little bit sick, he wanted to scream but he was afraid that if he opened his mouth, then Lloyd would be bombarded with puke. Finally, the lift halted abruptly, yet again throwing them back. Etrius collapsed, unable to stand up longer.

On his knees, Etrius vomited all over the lift floor. "Why did his life have to suck so bad?" Etrius thought.  
He just wanted to lie there, and sleep. The one thing he hadn't done in over a day, he just hadn't noticed it because he had killed a massive serpent. Emotionlessly, Lloyd outstretched a hand; Etrius shook his head unable to talk from the lingering stomach acid.

Regardless, Lloyd heaved him up and wiped his face off with Etrius' shirt. It would take hours of cleaning the blood, vomit and dirt off of his uniform, but he didn't care. He didn't even care that he just barfed on the most top secret and expensive operation the world had to offer. Embarrassed Etrius shook off Lloyd and hesitantly asked him where to go.  
"Just a little further," if Lloyd was trying to help, he was only being a hindrance.

His lack of detail and evasion of questions was really pissing Etrius off. Yet again, he was going to snap, until a very familiar, insane person nearly tackled him to the ground.  
"Etrius! What are you doing here?" Boomer had indeed attempted to bear hug Etrius, but with lack of experience had nearly broken Etrius' neck.  
When Boomer noticed he had attempted to hug someone with green muck all over his shirt, he recoiled with disgust.

"Urggh, gross! Was that your first time in the elevator?" Boomed made an attempt to wipe off the sticky substance.  
"Yeah," Lloyd said simply.  
Etrius noticed Boomer had still fought off the military's regulations about long hair. It was still blond, wavy and pissed of all CO's that came within ten feet of it. In fact, were it not for Boomer's brutal nature, and a reputation to snap necks like toothpicks he would have been discharged for insubordination.

No one in their right mind would willingly try to have a wrestling match with Boomer; his rippling muscles bulged, which was all … completely natural. A syringe slid into Etrius' mind which brought a small grin to Etrius.  
Boomer usually wore an inane grin, which may be because his mind is always circulated around violence. His nose was faintly crooked, which Etrius thought might have been the result of a drill sergeant trying to physically do something about his hair.

And his eyes never had the shine of real happiness when someone smiles, no; when he smiled it looked fake, when it wasn't. He didn't know how to describe it. Kind of like, his smile was a sad poser attempt to look joy- ah, screw it."Where's Beecher?" it had always been implied that everyone had joined; besides Beecher was the one he wanted to see most.  
They were the only two original members of the elite team, Beecher was the only one Etrius could confide him, when he was drunk he'd say they were brothers, when he was sober he wouldn't touch the subject.

"Running a mission to collect that dragon you killed," Boomer was showing admiration, not something that he would usually do.  
"I need to sleep, is there anywhere I can go to do that?" Etrius' eyes were starting to flutter, and he stifled a yawn.  
"You can't do that right now Etrius," Lloyd said seriously.  
"What? Why?"

"If you do now, then your body clock will be confused and you'll be going to sleep when you're meant to be going on missions," Boomer joined in.  
Etrius swore, this was so not fair! That sounded like something a fifteen year old girl would say, but he didn't care.  
"Is there anywhere I can _rest_ at least?" Etrius decided not to rage, he didn't have the energy.

Etrius scanned the room fervently for somewhere he could relax; Lloyd had at least been right that all of the buildings weren't as badly designed as the Command Post. The walls were white, but not so much that it reflected the light into your eyes, pissing you the hell off. Doors lined the room but didn't look identical, above was a plaque reading what it was for, so no one would awkwardly walk in, only half sure that, that was the room the wanted.

Boomer steered Etrius over to a door which read, _Main Combat Force __Residence_. Inside was a lengthy couch, spread out in front of a massive window showing the grey void that dominated the planet. On the right was a kitchen, which seemed to be the most used, no dust, and some of the cupboard doors were ajar. On the left were a pool and poker table, both of which were blanketed with dust. The elite team had never taken to the leisure activities, every time they had one it always ended up the same way.

Beecher passes out from the alcohol, Etrius and Boomer (who would be very drunk) would almost kill someone they don't know, or each other varying on how drunk they were. And Lloyd would be reclusive in a corner, blankly watching the night's events play out. That sounded very accurate, unless he recounted the agonising hangovers.  
Etrius sat on top of the poker table, he wanted a bit of rest and the couch looked like the only occupant that it would find comfortable was something that couldn't register pain.

Regardless, Boomer climbed onto the back rest of the couch and sat there facing Lloyd who just awkwardly leaned against the door.  
"Lloyd said that you guys could tell me how you got here," Etrius was sick of not knowing.  
"Forget that," Boomer blurted out, "What the hell happened to you? Discharged my ass, there's more to this."

Etrius understood his suspicion, but at the moment he just wanted answers. Too long had he felt like a blind man stumbling around in the dark, he'd just taken down a massive serpent just out of retirement, if he asked for an explanation he was _damn _well going to get one.  
"I asked first, tell me," he wasn't going to put up with any more delays.  
"_Fine_, me and Beecher were on the same plane, I was going to catch another while he stayed at the airport. Some of The General's thugs bullied us at the airport, they _brought _us to

The General who _convinced _us to join. That's our uplifting recruitment story, happy?_"  
_Etrius decided that he wasn't going to question the emphasis on 'convinced' and 'brought.' He didn't really want to hear the specifics of what Boomer would do to someone if they intimidated him at the airport.

"Now what the hell are _you_ doing here, I would have sooner believed you were dead, than working for The General again," Boomer sounded as desperate and angry as Etrius had been.  
Etrius sighed heavily, if Boomer hadn't gone into detail he wouldn't either. Etrius retold the events with the skill of a rudimentary storyteller.

He left out some parts, like his attack on the first couriers, and his botched escape from the van.  
Etrius finished lazily, he struggled to keep himself awake, how he was going another day like this he was unsure. Lloyd hadn't really been tuning in; there was a reason more of his file had been classified than any of the other teams, and why he had gotten more clearance to see everyone else's history and persona, particularly Etrius …

"Fucking jerks," Boomer cursed.  
Lloyd was silent, but whole heartedly agreed by nodding his head with approval, Etrius however was not as tactless as Boomer, he saw right through Lloyd and was not going to resist his constant evasions and distractions. Etrius was going to solve why Lloyd stood by The General by what appeared as the most willingly.

"Ever since I've seen you, you've been all quiet, why did you join?" Etrius echoed.  
Even Boomer was interested, his mindless grin was still plastered across his lower face, but it was falling, and his eyes were solely focused on Lloyd, he too had been curious about Lloyd and never learn what had happened.

Even with both of their scrutiny, Lloyd remained unruffled, but in fact, he was in a raging internal battle. His eyes were faraway, and it now became visibly apparent that he was thinking. Lloyd was undergoing a fierce internal conflict; after all of these years he had to have expected his secret to be forced out of him. But he was scared shitless, how would they both react? How would _Etrius_ react?

"Earth to Lloyd," Boomer said irritably.  
"Any, minute," thought Lloyd desperately.  
The General had promised, said he had regretted what he had done. There was no way he was letting Etrius find out now.

"_This is The General, __Lloyd to the Command Outpost _immediately," The General blared through the intercom.  
Boomer and Etrius knew that there was no way that had been a coincidence, it was just a bit too convenient timing like that only occurred in cheap movies.  
"Fuck this," Etrius grabbed Lloyd by the shirt and harshly smashed him against the wall, "I want answers."

Lloyd's face was twisted with shock, but there was the fear was the flicker again, Etrius didn't know what he was hiding and he wasn't letting go. Lloyd couldn't believe it: he had come _so _close to eluding his past again, but now he was going to be thwarted by Etrius on drugs. Was this how it ended? No, it wasn't.  
When Etrius was on the verge of physically beating out a response, Lloyd came to his senses and remembered _he _was the melee expert. Lloyd his both of his free hands to king hit Etrius across the face.

Boomer was torn between amusement and concern, so supplemented with making a few feet toward the scuffle before stepping back again. Etrius cradled his cheek while wildly grabbing mid-air in a sad attempt to halt Lloyd, grimacing, Lloyd swept out before Etrius would curse to kill Lloyd's Granny and eat her, at least The General had stopped Etrius and Boomer finding out, but what was with the dramatic timing? Was he getting kicks out of this? Or was he just pissing all over their agreement?

Hadn't The General got the picture, Lloyd didn't want anyone to know. It had seemed The General had just completely tossed the picture out the window, actually, no he hadn't. He had acknowledged the picture, but he just wiped his ass with it. He punched the button of the elevator, nearly breaking it. He was going to have a looooong chat with that, senile. Old. Fool.

* * *

"This is horse shit," thought Lieutenant Commander Mullins as he threw away a cigarette on the ancient dirt.  
A convoy of trucks were loaded with thick metal cylinders and were awaiting the order to collect the corpse of the serpent. Mullins was sitting on the bonnet of one of the lead truck; he had been sitting there thinking for what felt like an eternity, most of the other soldiers were doing something similar, card games or loitering around the vehicles.

The CO for the op, Beecher was the only one not to be doing any socialising. He was sitting in the driver seat of a truck apparently pondering something. Mullins thought so anyway, in fact, he thought that Beecher's thinking face reminded him of an asshole.  
Smiling at his crude humour, Mullins decided to silently complain about the lack of internet.

Which was the thing that most people in the facility missed the vast array of social networking and limitless source of information made the internet more addicting than Mullins considered diving through the portal just so he can sink his teeth into his tablet. He supplemented by lighting another cigarette, it was the only other addicting thing in this fucking world.

All activity ceased when The General spoke over the radio, "_This is The General to convoy, read?_"  
Beecher descended from his trance and picked up the microphone from the truck's dashboard.  
"Sir?" Beecher still sounded a little bit dazed.  
"_Get it done," _The General ordered simply.

"Sir!" Beecher raised his hand halfway for a salute, but found his dignity halfway through, so he awkwardly put his hand on the steering wheel to excuse the sudden swiping motion.  
Mullins sighed as he spat out the half used cigarette and dragged himself off of the bonnet; it looked like he actually was going to do something that day.  
Mullins sat next to Beecher, he wasn't in conversation and Beecher wasn't either.

Slowly, Beecher led the convoy further and further away from the facility. Mullins opened the window a bit so that his toothbrush moustache bristled against his upper lip. Mullins was in his fifties and still kicking. He had been fighting for third world countries in the resource war before he had joined the castle project, and it showed on his face.  
Chiselled by battle and hardened by war, Mullins was tired, old and complaining about every minute thing. Mullins noticed the expressionless look on Beecher again, oh boy, he had transcended back into his pondering.

Mullins repressed a sigh as he checked his rifle, he despised anyone that made more than him, but he couldn't help but agree with that fool The General, 'strap up and stow your shit.'  
Everything needed to be double and triple checked, five minutes to collect, pack and shove a cork up your ass. The rear view mirror reflected the mass of trucks following suit of Beecher's, he wondered if that crackpot Romanov had been accurate about the size of the dragon, or was he exaggerating to make himself look good in the socially retarded world of science.

He didn't regret leaving the fight in the resource war, in fact he didn't doubt that if he had stayed fighting for third world countries he would be dead, eaten for the lack of food. But he didn't want to reflect on what could or could not have happened, after all the mountain was in view.  
Mullins was astounded at the size of the mountain, rocky outcroppings and crumbling stone. Century's worth of nature had bombarded it and some moron had climbed it? Mullins wouldn't trust a parkour expert to climb it.

"There, we'll set up next to the corpse," Beecher pulled Mullins 'attention to the serpent which he had surprisingly only just noticed.  
The beast was so gigantic that when it had fallen a dent was impacted into the ground; cold dead eyes stared unseeingly ahead, once green scales had turned a sour yellow and the scales were peeling and dropping off. Horns, formerly strong, grey and twisting, were sagging through the skin and looked oddly large against the serpent's rotting flesh. Mullins had seen some shit before, but for the first time in six years he was speechless.

When Beecher caught sight of Mullins looking like he was brain dead, he regained his dignity, "This thing breathed _fire_?"  
He been astonished when he read the report, but seeing the monster in person wiped away all doubt. Beecher parked a good deal in front of the serpent; the plan was that a column of the thick metal tubes would be squashed under the beast as well as portable walls around the dragon so that it didn't go sideways off of the tubes.

The dragon was slowly roll back to the facility, a tedious and ridiculous plan, but the really was nothing else, too big to airlift, carry, drag or any other direct means. No, The General had taken a leaf out of ancient civilisations book, and just taken the long option.  
Mullins was getting a bit tense, he wasn't allowed to smoke on duty but it was killing him. Every fibre of his body seemed to be exhausted, just one cigarette wouldn't hurt, but he'd have to be subtle.

Beecher didn't tolerate anything, _yes sir! No sir! Can't have fun with a stick up your ass sir! _Come to think of it, that was probably how Beecher had ascended the ranks so fast.  
"All right let's move it!" Beecher was a bit uncomfortable giving orders, he was used to following them, but he just had to adapt and cope.  
Mullins sighed and waved over another two dozen men, the cylindrical metal pipes would be a bitch to carry, not hollow or done anything to lessen its weight every tube had to work together to support the dragon.

If that plan didn't work the research team would just have to set up a temporary research outpost, not preferable seeing as they didn't know if there were any more surprises the castle had in store.  
Why would whoever built it set up defences around it though, what, to protect some book? Mullins thought there had to be more to it.

"Right," Mullins was taking charge of these two squads; no jackass was going to tell him what to do, "You, with the bad shave at the end, everyone else spread evenly around the pipe, you know what even means? The get to it! I'll go at the opposite end of the pipe.  
"The soldier Mullins had indicated that had, had a bad shave was because the soldier must have woken up late or something, and only had time to shave half of his face.

With the orders in place Mullins decided to have an initial attempt, "Hands under the tube, stop laughing! Dirty jokes will only get you a boot up the ass. Right, three, two, one!"  
Mullins underestimated the mass of the cylinder, veins popped up all over his skin as everyone strained to lift it. The all heaved the tube tediously to the dragon; even together they could only lift the cylinder a few centimetres off of the ground and carry it a few feet at a time.

"Okay, okay," Mullins felt like he had fought a battle, "just give me a minute. I gotta have a smoke."  
None of the soldiers complained for a short break, some of the flopped over breathing heavily with sweat pouring down their body. Mullins slid out his last cigarette out of his jacket pocket, he had to set an example of neatness by keeping his uniform on, but he couldn't help but envy the soldiers who took off their shirts let sweat run freely.

Mullins nearly threw the fag in his mouth, tobacco was so addictive and he was a dirty, dirty addict. As he inhaled the smoke into his lungs, he knew that he had picked the best time to smoke. He was sweating, battered and felt in more pain than the entire cast of _Saw_, but that one smoke, just the one was enough to get him back on his feet, rubbing his hands together and telling everyone that they had two minutes to shove a cork up their ass.

"Sir!" the bad shaved soldier whined, "Just five more minutes, or I'll tell the CO you've been smoking."  
Mullins' face turned green for second but not before he could retort, "I don't know if you come from planet Retards 'r' Us, you're shutting up and doing your job."  
The badly shaven only had to think once before he reacted, "Beecher sir! The dragon's having babies!"

The soldier was screeching at the top of his lungs and saying that it was having babies would get everyone's attention, as Mullins looked panicky everyone who knew what was going on started laughing at him. Hastily, Mullins scanned left and right, everything was just a flat expanse, and Beecher was coming! Quick, truck too far away, dirt erodes, seeing no other option he looked at the dragon.

"Aghh, I better not regret this!" he curdled his hand into a fist holding the butt, as hard as he could, he climbed up the serpent's mouth and punched his fist inside the beast's nostril.  
Weirdly, he couldn't feel any mucus and gunk slather all over his arm, perhaps all snakes were like that. Mullins let go of the still burning cigarette and retracted his arm. Mullins dropped down just in time for Beecher to get around the serpent's head and catch sight of Mullin's team.

"What happened?" Beecher barked sharply, he was very rude when it came to leadership, "How could it be breeding?" he said that in a more careful tone realising his impoliteness.  
"No sir, I just wanted to get your attention. Mullins was smoking and on duty," the soldier looked thoroughly pleased with himself as he saw Beecher's face turn from disgust to intrigue.  
"Bullshit!" Mullins surprised himself; he should consider an acting career.

Beecher was conflicted, he _had _been known to smoke inappropriately but those were very isolated cases. A survey should do it.  
"Who else saw Mullins smoke?" Beecher wanted to get back to work, not solve petty misdoings.  
Meanwhile, Mullins had bated breath if no one ratted him out … but then again, why would they? All the soldiers who were witness shook their heads; they all wanted to see how this would play out and what the soldier would do when nobody supported him.

"You pricks!" his smile had certainly been wiped off of his face.  
Most of the soldiers had now formed a crowd, and Mullins couldn't blame them, it was either sweat your ass off in the sun or watch some soldier tell tales.  
"Can you at least show me the cigarette butt?" Beecher sighed, he _had _been hoping to get this serpent moved by the end of the day, but that seem possible anymore.  
Mullins held his breath again, constantly shifting his gaze from Beecher and the soldier while trying not to guiltily glance at the beast's nose.

"He stuck it into the dragon's nose sir!" the soldier knew as soon as he said that no one would believe him.  
The crowd chuckled and jeered, what an idiot. Mullins pretended to tease him like the rest, but inside he had just took an enormous breathe of relief.  
Beecher raised his eyebrows, "Private, do your work and put a sock in it," with that, Beecher strolled off to help with the other groups; somehow he wasn't having as much trouble lifting the pipes as much as everybody else had been.

"You dick!" the soldier cursed as the crowd dispersed.  
"Private if you don't shut your hole I can always sell your voice box on eBay," Mullins began being comical, he was so relieved that he hadn't been busted, if he had he might become kicked out of the castle project. And there was no way he was going back to dodging gunfire, shrapnel and bombs again.

But as he did a 'three, two, one' again, there was a thought lingering at the back of his head like he'd forgotten something. He tried to connect the dots, but nothing came to him, damn! What was it!  
He wondered how he'd collect the cigarette again; no way would he survive a trip back to get another it would take _hours_. But there'd only be a bit left, it had still been lit when he, when he-

The serpent breathed fire, it couldn't just have fire _stored_ in its body, and it would have to produce it, which needed something flammable, the serpent's mouth was closed so the flammable substance would go through its nose, which was where he'd left the inflamed butt …  
Mullins dropped his end of the pipe making everyone groan and say things like, "What the hell Mullins? After we saved your ass?!"

He sprinted to the microphone in the lead truck ripping it off the hook.  
"This is Lieutenant Mullins, code red, everyone abandon the pipes, get the fuck in the trucks and drive back to the facility as fast as you can," he prayed that every single person took him seriously.  
He slammed the truck door shut waiting for Beecher, around the beast, the soldiers looked quizzical, but one by one they dropped the pipes and sprinted into the trucks.

"Mullins, just what the hell do you think you're doing?!" Beecher had come to the window and looked enraged.  
"Sir, there's no time to explain, but if we stay there is a high chance that we could all die," when Beecher still looked disbelieving and fuming Mullins needed more persuasion, "Beecher, I would never do this unless I had a good reason."

Mullins hated pleading, but it was this or let him die.  
"I better not regret this," Beecher hopped in and drove away as fast as he could, Mullins looked like Christmas had come early.  
When Beecher had gotten a fair distance away and Mullins calmed down a bit, he explained why this was such a rush.

When he got the part about him smoking Beecher gripped the steering wheel a bit tighter, but Mullins ploughed on before Beecher could give him a lecture.  
"So I put two and two together and uhh-" Mullins was interrupted by a massive BOOM!  
Beecher put his foot right down trying to out gun the blast radius, Mullins was clenching each side of his seat, his moustache flew across his face, but it didn't look like enough, he could start to feel the blast.

They both screamed like mad men just before the effects of the blast faded away.  
"Pheew, I wasn't worried," Mullins sighed until a loud crumbling sound replaced the explosion.  
Spinning around, they both saw that the explosion had greatly weakened the mountain next to it, a large vertical crater surfaced in the mountain.

With insufficient balance, the mountain fell sideways smashing into the ground, Mullins had a split second view of the castle before it was obliterated into a million pieces.  
Mullins said goodbye to his ass as he knew that bloodthirsty scientists would want his head on a silver platter.

* * *

Mullins was waiting just outside The General's office; it was 'night' so the hallway was empty at least. Mullins couldn't even sum up the courage to be worried, every time a thought strayed across his brain he couldn't process it, everything all looked so dire. He had just simultaneously destroyed two major artefacts for study, this had to be a record of stupidity, and he may very well have sealed the hope for all of humanity. Whatever was in that castle might very well have been the key to ending the resource war.

He slumped to the ground and buried his head in his hands. What had he done?! He personally promised to give up smoking for good, the next time he saw a cigarette he was throwing it out of a window. Now he could distinctly Romanov, The General and Beecher conversing within the office, he knew it, he was done for.  
Romanov would do everything in his power to have him court martialled for a war crime by using some legal loophole.

Well, he had deserved it, he might have killed off every human, years of fighting in the war only to have doomed everyone, the situation couldn't get worse.  
Beecher opened the door to see Mullins sulking, "Mullins, get up. The General and the Doctor want to see you."  
Damn it! He just had to say things couldn't get worse. Slowly he rose up and entered in which he suddenly became very interested in his right knee.

The General was trying to appear calm, but his hands were clenched together tightly, Beecher took a seat in front of The General's desk exchanging glances between The General and Mullins, Romanov however was sitting next to Beecher looking as though the greatest discovery in history had been swept away … wait, scratch that. Romanov ceased streaming his fingers through his long hair and tried to politely as Mullins to recount the story from his point of view.

To this, Mullins steadily mumbled the same story he had told Beecher, he became slightly more confident as he went, raising his voice to normal talking level, and eyeing everyone nervously. When he finished everyone was quiet again. He could feel the dismissal crawling up his back, guilt clogged up his mouth and nothing tasted worse than guilt, perspiration crawled down his neck like liquid ants scurrying down his body.

"Do you know how much trouble you're in son?" The General piped up.  
Mullins went back to vacantly staring his knee.  
"Yes I do sir," Mullins answered quietly.

"Destroying the most notable feature in a different world, demolishing an ancient creature capable of taking down platoons but a man single headedly fought tooth and nail to kill, and obliterating _years _of research that could have been invested into the human race," The General was extremely disappointed with the Lieutenant Commander, it could take decades to find another structure in that dimension.

"Yes sir, I fully accept my consequences," Mullins murmured.  
"_But_," Beecher added, Mullins looked up again puzzled, "You identified the threat the dead creature posed, saving thousands of soldiers."  
What? Could this be his ticket out of getting dismissed? Would he be able to stay, even if punished harshly?

"After much consideration," Romanov continued, somehow the Doctor's foreign accent didn't sound as annoying as Mullins previously thought, "You shall be demoted, and put into intense isolation for as long as The General decides."  
Inside Mullins' soul soared, yes! He wasn't going to die in the war, he would stay on the world, and he was prepared to spend as much time in prison just so long as he didn't starve to death or die from a nuclear winter.

"Doctor, Beecher, and _Serge__ant _Mullins, could you please leave Mullins report to your quarters for a sleep cycle before reporting into isolation tomorrow. I need to talk to Lloyd," The General pointed to the door.  
"Lloyd, why would you need to talk to him," Beecher stopped; he shared Etrius' view of distrusting The General.

Beecher disobeying The General was enough to pique Mullins and Romanov's interest.  
"Nothing illusive," The General replied coolly, "What I discuss with people under _my _command is _my _business. Please leave."


	4. Chapter 4 - A Meaningless Schism

**Chapter 4 – A Meaningless Schism**

Lloyd slammed the door shut before Etrius tackled him to the ground, and for good measure, jammed his key card into the key pad so Boomer and Etrius would have to wait a good while until someone took it out. Lloyd strode to the elevator petulantly, without another thought he was going to go to: The General. He'd lecture him and then hide from Etrius for a while, easy. At the time the plan sounded bullet proof, but the close encounter in the dorm clouded his judgement. Normally, he would have spotted the flaws and thought of something else.

Lloyd ignored felt the whoosh of the elevator, which thankfully distracted him for a bit. He felt that brooding made things worse, his two favourite words were status quo. If nothing happened, nothing could go wrong. While his logic had always been flawed, it still worked for the majority of the time. _Is now majority of the time? No, no it isn't, I need to beat The Gen__eral verbally. _He had to win that time, he was more determined than Rambo with adrenaline shots.

He exhaled slowly, he hated over thinking something, and in his books, more than two sentences was overthinking something. Lloyd cleared his mind, blocking out emotion, emotion was what led to thinking, stopping the source stops the flow. The lift sunk to a lower catwalk, allowing its doors to slither up. Naturally his feet dragged him to the Command Post; he was so used to being a blank slate, that his overuse of meditation felt normal.

Blank white walls matched his character, scientists and soldiers alike wandered the corridors. Not talking, never loitering, never socialising. There was nothing but the task, and the war situation worsening didn't help the scene in the Command Post. Soon, a wooden door stood out from the crowd, the odd one out.

Boldly, he rapped his knuckle on the door, he hadn't a clue what he was going to say or do, but that hadn't mattered to him. Once he got worked up into a rage, he could just speak from the heart. Oddly enough, no reply came from the other side of the door, so The General indirectly nearly got him killed and he was neglecting him? _Rat bastard, no, don't think about it. _ Lloyd hammered the wood, becoming more irate with each knock.

He reared his fist back for an even harder thump, but Romanov bustled through followed by a moustached soldier who looked like he had just jumped over the moon, the tag on his breast pocket read, _Sgt_ _J. Mullins. _Mullins hurriedly saluted, which took Lloyd aback, he hated people showing recognition to his rank, it reminded him of just _how _he'd gotten to his rank.  
"Lloyd, a word," Lloyd hadn't noticed The General standing in front of his window, gazing flatly.

Lloyd marched inside with a dissipating sensation, he had been clearing his mind. "Close the door behind you son," The General was trying to be friendly and candid, but Lloyd wasn't going to fall for his subtle persuasion. Lloyd couldn't help but admire the way The General stood so proud, the way his presence was established in the room: he was in charge of it all.

Lloyd chose to ignore the chair in front of The General's desk; he just stood there watching The General's ambient posture. "Close shave?" The General sounded not mannerly or even remotely civil anymore, in fact he sounded displeased and upset, why the change?  
"Why didn't you call it in earlier? I know very well that you bugged the facility," if Lloyd had almost been smeared The General had better have a gem of an excuse for it.

The General stepped away from the window and gently sat down on his chair, lighting a cigar. Lloyd gradually squinted at The General, it was at times like these that he wished The General's thoughts were to be publicly read, scrawled across the four walls of his office_. _How long had The General known about the parallel dimension? Longer than everyone else for sure, so why had he squandered it?

"I was discussing a tragedy … we lost the castle," The General patted the ashes of his cigar into an ash tray, "I was focusing very hard on securing the culprit's appropriate punishment."

There had been a tone of displeasure again, had he thought Lloyd would have solved the problem with Etrius independently? Or was there something else? Whatever it was, he wanted to find out. But he also wanted answers to the 'loss' of the castle. How could such a valuable asset be lost so rapidly? It also occurred to him that not that long ago Beecher had been sent there, and now it was gone. No way had that been a coincidence, The General must have ordered him to destroy it.

"Loss? What?! Why did you send Beecher to destroy it? Do you realise what you just done old man," Lloyd spat, The General sat up straighter and narrowed his eyes menacingly, Lloyd paced toward The General uncharacteristically menacingly, "Saving Earth?! Bullshit! Then why the _fuck_ did you just completely obliterate a possible resource we could have used?!"

It was a gamble to assume that Beecher had destroyed it, but he was certain that The General was in the wrong here one way or another. Lloyd had paced further toward The General, which he had barely noticed due to his blinding fury. The old man's face engraved with as much ire as Lloyd's, which was disconcerting at first. The room might have risen ten degrees; the pair of them were glowering alarmingly at each other.

"Son, are you out of your mind, I could have you charged with insubordination. I didn't _order _it, why the hell would I do that?" The General truthfully explained the events, Lloyd's face became progressively lighter, but he hadn't forgotten about Etrius, not by a long shot.  
"So you were busily chatting, not a worry in the world. While Etrius nearly found out what _I _did, what _you _did," Lloyd redeemed his former grittiness.

"This is outrageous!" The General bellowed, he pointed his finger intimidatingly, "Do not interfere with my plan Lloyd. I won't warn you again!"  
Lloyd wasn't the slightest bit concerned with whatever The General warned, he wasn't going to take his deceit, and assumptions anymore.  
"Go to hell," he put dramatically, waving his hand uncaringly at The General, before stomping toward the door.

"I mean it Lloyd," the sheer verbal force of The General stopped Lloyd dead in his tracks, "The second you walk out that door consider yourself under arrest. I can't afford to have you making up some horse shit to Etrius to convince him to kill me. You can't escape this dimension Lloyd; a single unarmoured man isn't strong enough to survive a trip through that portal."

_Wait, What?! Was that true?_ The General sounded sure of himself; he continued his argument, "Where will you go? You have no one, _nothing._ You can't hide from the past Lloyd. You had to know this would happen one day." He glared at Lloyd with mingled triumph and hate; he knew Etrius wasn't a force to be reckoned with, The General wasn't sure he would be able to survive the full force of the elite team.

Lloyd himself shook with fury, how he dare slander him like that. But the worst part was that he was completely correct, he was close to his team, but he hadn't had a friend in decades. The General had certainly tapped into a nerve, so why should Lloyd let him off easily? He shrieked at the top of his lungs while he spear tackled The General into the wall, Lloyd propped the groaning old man against the wall.

Lloyd pulled back his fist, and king hit The General across the face, again and again. With each hit he got a bit stronger, and The General's sobs fainter. Lloyd let out all the ferocity that had been building inside of him through his fists, but a small voice in his head said 'stop.' Out of breath, his fists throbbing from the multiple punches and his mind a swirl of satisfaction, he got up. There, now there was no way he'd be arrested straight away, it would be hours before The General woke up, _if _he woke up.

"Enjoy your fag," Lloyd insultingly threw The General's still smoking cigar at his lifeless body.  
Now what? Honestly he had no idea, but he did know that the noise would attract attention.

"Attention all personnel, elite team member, code name 'Lloyd' has assaulted a superior. Immediate capture is imperative, last known location is The General's office," the intercom's announcement made Lloyd's heart plummet nauseatingly, he cursed loudly and kicked the wall which didn't help, it just gave him an aching big toe on top of all the other problems that were going on.

However at Lloyd's kick, he was distracted by a raspy chuckle. The General was dribbling blood out of his mouth, nose and ears, but he was grinning and holding a microphone, which he had tugged out of his jacket pocket. Lloyd wanted to disembowel him, to rip out his spine and show it to his dying eyes. But there was no time, he was torn between fear and anger but fear took over him.

"Run Lloyd, see how far it gets you," The General wheezed happily as Lloyd sprinted out of the room.  
He didn't get that far, he was barely out of the Command Post, heading toward the barracks for weapons, before he was ambushed by three armed MPs on a catwalk.  
"Put your damn hands on your head and kneel on the floor!" the MP slid his rifle out of safety and aimed it right at Lloyd.

Lloyd slowly raised his hands on his head so that the MP lowered his guard for a fraction of a second, Lloyd swiftly kicked the rifle away from him so that it fired harmlessly into the distance, the MP aimed a punch at Lloyd, but he caught the fist in mid-air, brutally squashing it. While the victim squealed in pain, the other two reacted on instinct and foolishly opened fire; the bullets missed Lloyd and buried themselves into the MPs jugular.

Horrified with what they had done, the MPs dropped their rifles and kneeled next to their fallen comrade in a futile attempt to revive him. Lloyd saw a touch of familiarity of the scene, the victim's eyes staring lifelessly ahead. The triggermen, weeping at their mistake. Lloyd moved on, he'd regarded sympathy as weakness, but then? He had never felt the same amount of sensitivity before in decades.

The stupidest possible thing he could do was head to the armoury; hundreds of soldiers would be storming out to look for him. But he needed weapons if he was going to get to the portal, _that_ would be the most heavily fortified. With only melee weapons on his mind, Lloyd hurried to the barracks, he only encountered stray soldiers, which he took by surprise. His favourite takedown had left his adversary dangling off the catwalk railings, by some rope.

The entrance to the shabby brick barracks lay just ahead, but it was something was off. Normally the sound of gunfire could be easily heard from this building, drill sergeants curses were always distinguishable but then there was nothing. No firing or hollering, Lloyd could tell this was a trap, a blind donkey could figure it out so he was insulted. So … if the door was an ambush, and the rest of the barracks was crawling with guards, he'd have to think outside of the box to penetrate it.

The best method for problem solving was to take a leaf out of something brilliant he or someone else had done. Just his opinion, but it had worked most of the time. The problem was he could only remember the details of the mission on Rebirth Island, and in China. He had only remembered those because they had been utter failures, nothing had gone right.

But then, what about Etrius? Yes, that had sounded quite promising. Etrius had climbed the dragon in order to kill it. Instead, Lloyd would climb the barracks, use a mental picture of the route to the armoury while on the roof, then he'd just, break apart the bricks and drop in. It was so simple.

But there was a hurdle to overcome; the bricks had been cemented so tightly, nearly no hand or foot holds were visible. Still Lloyd had always been a master at climbing. He started by balancing on the railing of the catwalk, his concentration had to be impeccable if he were to balance on a ten centimetre wide beam in advance to jumping into the Barrack's wall. _Just don't look down, don't look down_, he told himself.

The height of the catwalks had been a lot scarier when he had been inches from a certain death. Lloyd (quite hesitantly) outstretched both of his arms in front of him; if he was going to jump an early hold would be essential. _Okay, three, two … one! _He leapt into the wall, hooking his fingertips into the tiniest gaps. It took all of his muscular upper body strength to cling on to tiny cracks.

He knew he wouldn't be able to hold on forever, so Lloyd brought his right arm upwards a few inches and gripped the stone. Tiny crumbs of cement and brick crumbled as his grip tightened painfully, it took a lot of determination and focus to repeatedly climb up the barracks. _Three feet, two and a half, two, just … a bit more. _A lifetime away, he learnt, 'the last step is always the hardest.' With a throbbing migraine and blistered hands, those words sounded more truthful than anything else he'd heard of.

Finally, he lay on top of the station panting heavily with sweat pouring down his body. He rested there, wanting to sleep there forever, but persistence and willpower drove him to stand up. The hardest part had beenaccomplished, he went to the armoury just about every day, how could he forget? Lloyd recollected the countless walks he had undergone through the cold stone structure.

Two metres forward - nearly a forty-five degree turn left - proceed about ten metres onward - ninety degree turn right - stop. That should be it. Lloyd looked down at the bricks doubtfully, he couldn't shake off the feeling that he had messed something up; no way could he have remembered something that perfectly. But he didn't have much of a choice; he knelt down and smoothly rubbed his hand over a layer of bricks. The cinder had been melded together too toughly, there was no way he could break through, he'd need to find another batch.

Lloyd moved over to a new set, yet again he tested it. _Yes, this on__e's good nice and weak, the builders must have gotten sloppy with the cementing here. _He arched back his arm about to slam into it, _wait; what if there are people underneath? It would surely take more than one hit to penetrate this even with it so fragile.__ I better not have them ready for me. _He pressed his ear against the brick; an icy sensation prickled through his head and neck, the masonry was chilly and not comfortable to have half his face pressed against.

A faint but steady chatter could be heard if he strained himself hard enough, he'd need to find another set. He moved around several times, his non-verbal curses growing increasingly more heated. Each time he found it was too strong or too well protected. Eventually, Lloyd found a group of bricks that had very little chatter and was quite frail.

He reared back his palm; the surface just bounced his hand back with a 'smack!' He suppressed a yelp, palming a brick wall sounded trivial, but the bones in his wrist seemingly vibrated plaintively and his hand was already bruised. However, the bricks had been disturbed ceasing all chatter below, Lloyd wouldn't have much time. He tensed his leg, preparing to strike the bricks. Lloyd stomped on the bricks over and over, now the soldiers beneath had noticed and were calling in backup.

Getting panicky, Lloyd stamped his foot recurrently preferring to not break his wrist. Bricks were destabilising and starting to collapse, much to the dismay of the guards underneath.  
"It's him! Open fire," one of the trainees cried below.  
Well he couldn't hope that they would remain dismissive forever, but the bullets didn't help. Lloyd impulsively jerked backwards from the barrage of shots colliding with the fragile bricks, he scrambled backwards on all fours as bullets zoomed into the roof or through the hole he had created with his foot.

Lloyd continuously jumbled back, the shots were diminishing the roof. Bricks toppled, cracked cinder and smoke dominated the ceiling, and yet still the riflemen continued to fire, stupid trainees. They were meant to take him in alive, but they were using live ammunition. _Wait_, something had been very, very wrong. The entire barracks was poorly designed, if one section were to crumble, the rest of the building would lose support and fall …

"STOP FIRING, YOU'LL GET EVERYONE KILLED," but they didn't, bullets pelted the roof making everything shake. Lloyd got up hastily, the gap was growing larger, he was sure the entire building was going to fall apart. The trainees only noticed after the damage was spreading like wild fire, so they reacted on instinct and scarpered.

Lloyd would have a much better chance of fleeing, not only was he physically stronger, but he just had to run to an edge instead of navigating the barracks' collapsing corridors. Lloyd ran like hell from the vortex of bricks just behind him, it was a mad dash to the edge; his mind was only on that subject. He was faster than the wave of chaos, but as he slid to a halt just before the brink of the barracks, Lloyd saw that there was nothing but impending doom.

He could jump off and try to cling onto something, or he could battle the hazards of the remains of the barracks falling away, either way his chances were slim at best. His gaze shook from left to right looking for some loophole; the cataclysmic wave was drawing closer every instant; he couldn't wait around. Just as the final solid piece of roof buckled, Lloyd jumped, as hard and as fast as he could without running up.

It all happened in slow motion; he spread out his arms and legs to prolong his state of being airborne. The wind whistled in his ear, blocking out all other sound, Lloyd needed to land on a catwalk. If he could hook onto just one, he could get to the portal. Wildly spinning his head around, he caught sight of a promising catwalk nearly twenty metres away. His brain went out of slow motion as he rapidly leaned toward the walkway.

With his body rigid and straight, he flew like a missile. At the last possible moment, he spread out again, and grabbed the railing with his right then left hand, his body slammed into the catwalk but he held on. But the shoulder that had grabbed onto the rail first gave an almighty 'Clock!' followed with an almighty burning sensation coursing through his body, sourcing from his arm. If he were to say the time he was at the most despair, it was then, when his right shoulder got dislocated. It took all his willpower to clamp thrust his left hand onto the railing.

He dropped his right to dangle lifelessly by his side. Lloyd moaned in anguish, he was unable to describe in words how much the pain had drained away his energy, it felt like years since he had just sat down. He could feel his grip on the railing slipping; he grimaced as he looked below, unquestionably a lethal drop. Lloyd would only have one shot at his next plan, if he screwed it up there would be no silver medal for coming in second.

_On the count of three again. One, two … _Lloyd looked down then back up, his fingertips were slipping. _Three! _He used his single hand to hoist himself up, he thundered with screaming, the entire facility echoed his agony.

In all of his years of combat, being stabbed was more painful, but having done the former he desired another round with the mad terrorist with a fruit knife. His whole body bawled in dispute, but he kept pulling until he wrapped his chest around the railing where he leaned forward and collapsed onto the catwalk.

Lloyd panted madly, his vision was fading away, the pain was making him pass out. Lloyd's eyes fluttered, his both his arms were numb from pain. But then The General's face loomed at the forefront of his thoughts, a mere glance made him mechanically bolt upright. He _had _to continue, he wasn't going to let that bastard win. Standing up was tricky without his hands; he had to roll over to his knees, from there he could spring himself erect.

He could see the portal up ahead, and he was going to need to use his hands. He knew how to fix a dislocated shoulder, it would be painful but it had to be done. Lloyd patiently paused to get his left arm to get feeling back, he sat back down and propped up the knee parallel to his dislocated shoulder. Lloyd clenched his teeth tightly, as he wrapped his wrist around the knee.

Here came the hard parts, he leant back slightly and extended his neck upright. Essentially, he was stretching his shoulder using the knee as a fixed point, which caused intense muscular pain so he proceeded to the next step as quickly as possible. Lloyd braced himself again; he rotated his shoulders forward followed by a "Click!" Some of the pain ceased, but he still dug out a syrette from his jacket, since Rebirth he had always kept a needle full of morphine.

The flow of the drug flooding his system let him breathe a sigh of relief, most of the pain had gone and he could feel most of his arm again. The first aid procedure was to keep his arm as still as possible and in a sling, but he couldn't afford to take that risk. He'd have to continue to use it, but very minimally. Lloyd was a bit happier; he had survived the barracks even though he didn't get weapons, and now he could get to the portal and blow through the guards, but he had done harder things before.

Lloyd's spirits felt softer and made quick progress toward the portal. But the further he went along, the more he came to realise. He came across no one, nothing. His path to his objective was free, but bodies were splayed everywhere around the catwalks, bullets in their chests and heads, some were mutilated so badly that they were unrecognisable. Who had done that? Why would anyone kill their own people? Had some entity from the castle escaped, but then why had they been shot? Where was the rest of his team in all of this?

The self-interrogation sent doubts to reinforce in his chest, getting him more and more worried, and nothing was there to reassure him but the breeze ruffling his short hair. A gateway was in between the portal and Lloyd. Luckily, the gates had been wrenched open, with two dead soldiers lying beside it in what looked like a shallow attempt to guard it. Lloyd had only come to the portal once before, and that was his first forced trip to the different dimension.

A gigantic platform rested underneath the portal, but the platform's mass wasn't anywhere near as eye catching as the portal. It's sheer height of was staggering, it shimmered with an otherworldly atmosphere. But this time Lloyd was not engrossed by the portal's fascinating power and appearance. Instead he had his gaze on only one person, one silhouette, against the portals light, the shadow was staring straight at him, and it could be only one person, one person that gave Lloyd goose bumps.

Etrius glowered at Lloyd while ascending a pistol to his face. Lloyd's purpose faltered, the wrathful lines etched across Etrius face was enough to make him kneel down genuinely believing that this was the end.  
"The General let me out of the dorm and told me what you did, Boomer doesn't know but he thinks I'm going to come back with you," Etrius let out a mad bark of laughter. He was smothered in blood, the blood of the men and women sent to protect the portal. Everything was starting to make sense.

"The General- Tricked- Not my- _God damn it__!_" Lloyd had never grovelled in his life and didn't plan to. He kept his emotions locked up for a reason, but Etrius was going to kill him for something that he had no choice over, he would never be able to explain this to Etrius in time, this was one of the rare times where he'd have to show his true emotions.

The General had, had him trapped right from when they met. Lloyd knew he had to embrace his fate. It was clear that The General had fed Etrius some claptrap directed at Lloyd to kill him. Etrius wouldn't be prejudiced against The General as much anymore and Lloyd would be dead. Kill two birds with one stone.  
Etrius cocked back the hammer of the magnum, "I've known you for years Lloyd. _Why_."

Wait, Lloyd wasn't going to die by being The General's scape goat, he was going to force the truth on Etrius ... one way or another. He speedily sprinted toward Etrius, instinctively moving left and right before Etrius could fire, dodging bullets after they have been fired at point blank range was impossible even for a reflex professional like Lloyd. He spear tackled Etrius with one arm, before smashing Etrius' gun hand against the platform repeatedly until he let go.

Etrius was twisted with madness; he king hit Lloyd against the nose. Lloyd rolled off Etrius, clutching bleeding nostrils, which was a mistake because his right shoulder was still healing and moving it resulted in monumental distress. Etrius picked up the gun and pointed it at his opponent again. For a second time, Lloyd got the weapon off of his adversary. He kicked the gun out of Etrius' hands, acting on instinct; Etrius dashed toward the fallen firearm, but didn't come within a metre before being kneed in the back, knocking him to his knees.

Leap frogging over Etrius, Lloyd picked up the pistol and shot two holes in the platform. The rounds were just big enough for the diameter of a teacup to fit through. Lloyd's rival had regained his composure and was starting to throw punches at Lloyd. He held the pistol firmly, but he didn't want to kill Etrius, he tossed it over the platform, but by doing so he was punched by Etrius. Lloyd tottered a bit, but focused at getting back at Etrius.

It was now just a tedious game of 'who slipped up first.' Both of them traded blows with their limbs, but none substantial for a tide turning injury. Etrius wasn't having a harder time as Lloyd due to his arm impairment. But Lloyd was a prodigy with melee combat, so they were evenly matched. Lloyd was trying to direct Etrius just behind the two bullet holes he had created, but doing that without having his foe notice was quite challenging. But when nearly half an hour had passed, both were tired and sore, but Etrius was right where Lloyd wanted him.

Lloyd had to have paced his plan perfectly; just as Etrius punched straight at his foe, the blade expert jumped straight up, leaving Etrius fist just below his feet. As Lloyd landed, his foot pressed Etrius' hand right into the bullet hole, jamming it in. Etrius squirmed around, but his attempts to rip his arm out failed, his wrist was just too big. The infiltration expert had gotten a bit panicky; he had been stuck in the mud and could only swing around one arm.

Lloyd strafed left and right accordingly to dodge the attacks, he moved forward after each punch. Once he came face to face, he caught Etrius' final and toughest punch. Next, he ferociously crushed the knuckle while simultaneously bringing it down. Etrius groaned in pain, he was baffled as to how his team mate had been so strong, and he had never noticed his full potential.

The blade adept forced the Etrius' hand into the other bullet hole, rendering Etrius harmless, Etrius jerked and struggled, but ultimately he realised that he had been beaten. Etrius felt miserable, he had never lost a fair fight in his life, and this had been as fair as it got when Lloyd had no use of his arm, which he had noticed easily. Finally, Lloyd doubled over and huffed from a safe distance, the fight had really gotten the better of him.  
"Get me out!" Etrius pleaded shamefully.

"_No_, you need to understand the true story, The General has obviously fed you some bull crap, and you've swallowed it."  
Lloyd was showing him a side he'd never seen before, he actually showed human elements, and he wasn't sure which he preferred. But he was going to squarely tell Lloyd that he was wrong, and for once The General was right, and Lloyd would pay. Maybe not today, but he _would _have his vengeance.

"I haven't swallowed anything!" Etrius suddenly turned vicious again, "You killed him! And kept it from me all this time!"  
"No I didn't!" Lloyd lied, that had been it. The full story was about to be revealed.

Etrius snorted and leered disbelievingly, Lloyd sighed and sat down a distance away from him, he was going to tell Etrius everything, "Before I met you I was, dead. Never truly living, I wasted my life away by killing, not even knowing why I killed them. I was an amateur hit man, but with a very good status."  
Etrius shifted his gaze back to Lloyd, genuinely intrigued, Lloyd's file had been classified and pasted with black ink, so this was his first insight to Lloyd's past.

Small drops of water began to patter on both of them but the pair ignored it, too engaged for anything else. Lloyd became eerily misty eyed, his past had haunted him his entire life, and for the first time in decades, someone else would get an understanding too. Quite to the opposite of Lloyd, Etrius gave a rapt, unblinking appearance. Tingles quivered across Lloyd's nerves, he had to do this, his future – Etrius' future depended on it … for better or for worse.

**References:  
****-****For the procedure of how to treat a dislocated shoulder - ** article/63918-fix-dislocated-shoulder-yourself/  
**- For the explanation of the medical traits of morphine – ** wiki/Morphine


	5. Chapter 5 - Blood is Thicker Than Water

**- Warning, this chapter contains more graphic stuff, I don't understand why I have to warn people if this has a rating, but Fan Fiction makes the rules, if you don't like descriptive tear gas and torture, stay away**

**Chapter 5 – Blood is Thicker Than Water**

Small rain drops pattered across the steel platform, the two men were soundless the silence only ever broken by the crackling of the portal, hundreds of metres next to them, but neither cared. Etrius remained trapped in the platform, but was hardly annoyed by it.

Lloyd was still playing 'who could hold still the longest,' soaked up in his own memories and thoughts, most of those thoughts were regrets. And most of those regrets had been entirely his responsibility, which he thought a person like Etrius would never admit. Lloyd continued to be misty eyed; Etrius was stuck physically, while Lloyd was stuck in a prison much harder to break out from: his own head.

"Are you sure you want to know?" Lloyd sighed, he had been convinced that Etrius needed to know, but when he had to face the task, it had seemed a whole lot more challenging than he had ever predicted.  
"Lloyd, it's been thirty _years_," the words shook Lloyd, thirty years? Had it really been that long, he had really wasted his life.

An agitated Lloyd still had the courage to reply, "I- I don't think it would make you change your mind about me."  
"_Lloyd_," he badgered.  
Lloyd, contemplated it, if there had been one thing he had learnt, it was use his gut in conversation, use his brain in argument, and use both in combat. But which had that situation fallen under?

Argument, no. Conversation, no? And definitely not combat. Undeniably his logic was imperfect. He may as well, put an end to the whole misunderstanding.  
"You remember how I said I was a contract killer? Well, one day, I was shifting through possible contracts. I found a very promising one, it had no name or contact information but I wasn't suspicious, I had found substantial amounts of honest work before by anonymous hirers."

With every word, Lloyd went deeper and deeper into a daydream, just describing what he saw right in front of his glassy eyes. "I inspected every inch of it for authenticity."

Etrius couldn't believe what he was hearing, all the times they had talked, ever since they had met, and he had never confided in him, never trusted him. But then he remembered he had assumed that The General had been telling him the truth so that he would kill Lloyd. Etrius' fear had been confirmed, he _wasn't _to be trusted, despite being close to a group of dedicated people like him, he was untrustworthy. Truly, he had sunk to as low as The General, nothing could have been any worse

"I went through with that contract, pocketing the few other likely ones intending to complete them later," he continued; the rain was steadily getting heavier, "I was sloppy, had I been more careful, just opened my eyes I would've seen it was a trap," Lloyd hadn't told Etrius the truth with that part, but he had thought that it was irrelevant, and too personal.

Lloyd stared at Etrius again, with puffy and dead looking eyes.  
"What happened?" Etrius muttered hooked. Lloyd groaned, "The General was waiting for me, well he wasn't General back then but he never gave his name. He and his thugs ambushed me in an alley, they drugged me took me to someplace."

Etrius shouldn't have been surprised, but The General recruiting him hadn't been anywhere near as dramatic, nor had it been with Beecher and Boomer. Etrius felt a rush of shame, he had believed The General, after everything he had done, and Etrius had still fell for his trick.

"I was in a room, nearly a year all by myself," bitter tones flooded through his words like poison.  
"Tortured me, tried to twist me to believe them. But it didn't work, my will to stay as who I was, was too strong. So they just had to do the next best thing."  
"They had kidnapped me because I was a perfect assassin, never any screw ups, they wanted me so I could work for them legally, but after they saw I wasn't going to give in, The General persuaded me that if I killed someone, I could go."

Etrius remembered their meeting like it had happened a few hours ago, it was starting to make sense. How could he have been so foolish to trust The General?! From hindsight it all seemed so obvious that he had been faking it.  
"And so I did," Lloyd could feel the rain drenching his face now, the clouds were finally giving way, but he didn't care, he was going to leave and never come back. But the memories still crawled under his flesh.

* * *

War torn Beijing, buildings had been abused so much that it was a wonder how they could stay erect. Because China and India had over a billion people, both quickly fell into the clutches of the resource war. Officially, they had been among the first few countries to have mass starving, civil war or inter-country war, fuel prices skyrocketing, a sharp spike in theft, and slaughtering in the millions. And because of this, they'd had no clue what to do about it.

And Lloyd could see it all; he was on top of one of the less wrecked structures and could see for miles around. Police and military were frantically attempting to fight down the rioters, and save the country from impending cataclysm. Pollution caused Beijing to have ugly black clouds loom above, creating darkness to spread over the city. Alarms screeched in the distance, gore and rubble littered the road and piles of bodies were burning in the streets everywhere.

Lloyd wished he had brought a mask to deal with the ungodly stench, but he had to learn how to adapt just like how Governments were trying to adapt to the war. He knew things were going to get bad, _fast. _For everyone, everyone was anxious and on edge. Governments were learning from other country's mistakes, but how quick would they need to learn to stop the mass onslaught of Man's fatal destiny? Lloyd shook these thoughts from him and tried to plan out his assassination.

The target was a thirty six year old male who was orchestrating many of the riots occurring in China. He was foreign to Asia, and had become an iconic role in the rebel faction, he wasn't the leader but he was a much respected head in the army, and it was no doubt that if he died to would play a crucial role in the rebel army falling. Lloyd's kidnapper had thought it best for him to die, and he had no problem with that if it secured his freedom, temporary as it may be because of the resource war.

It was becoming global, but Lloyd would figure a way out, he always did. His kidnapper's Intel had suggested that his target would be holed up in the temple of Confucius, a one kilometre hike from where he was, but the problem wasn't the distance, it was the hazards. The streets were amass with battle, not to mention flaming barricades and mined bridges left his options quite depleted.

He thought that his best option was to climb to the temple, leaping from building to building. While there were still problems, but they were much less dangerous than his only other route for transportation. He strapped his sabre sword to his back and holstered a rifle-like grapple gun, the compass on his wrist indicated he was facing the correct way.

Lloyd had a few length of black safety rope to swing onto separate buildings. Lloyd clipped the rope onto a railing and clipped another section of rope to his waist. Definitely not the safest way to rappel but he'd had no choice. Taking a breath, he thrusted himself backwards off of the building, the grappling gun immensely weighed him down, humid air hit his back and fragments of the building fell around him, but his heart rate barely rose as he scraped his boot against a window sill.

Lloyd carefully took his hand off of the rope, just to see if it would hold his weight by itself. Just to be safe he tugged on is a couple of times until he was satisfied with its reliability. Lloyd attached a second cable from his waist to the window sill, this way he could turn around to face the opposite building. He tediously equipped the grappling gun and loaded it.

Grappling had been nowhere near as easy as it was made out to be in the fictional superhero world, everything relied on skill, and that was why nearly a quarter of attempted grapples had ended up in injury or death. Lloyd sent the hook sailing from the gun, and had it embedded into the roof of opposite building. He connected the rope from the gun to his waist, and detached the one from the railing above him.

It had been then when his heart started to race, once he disconnected the final cable, he would swing to the opposite building. Breathe in through the nose and out of the mouth was easy to say, but when the time came to actually do it with the wind swirling around you, blood coursing through his system, and a lifetime of nightmares, it was a lot harder to focus on.

_Fuck it_. Not an award winning philosophy but it'd do. He cut the cord, and held on for dear life. Lloyd forced his eyes open, it was crucial that he saw something to grab onto. The building rapidly grew closer, with eagle like eyes; Lloyd spotted a pipe he could grab onto. _Snap_, the rope had somehow broke, leaving Lloyd to flail in the air. Reacting on stupid natural drive, he stuck his hand out, smashing into a window.

Then he foolishly tried to grab onto the windowsill, but he had only made a small hole, so instead shards of glass ripped through his skin. Lloyd had stopped falling, but blinding pain had been unbelievable. The more he thought about it the more it seemed to intensify, the shards impaled his palm like daggers, Lloyd clenched his teeth, the only way out of the situation was the most painful one. Panting heavily, he threw himself up and through the window.

Lloyd curled up on the tiles, blood seeping out of his wounds, forming a small red puddle soaking his clothes. He picked out the tiny shards stuck in his arm. All the bandages in the world wouldn't quench the pain, but at lease then he had found out that rappelling from building to building was far too dangerous. Lloyd was in an abandoned office area, but one that had been perfectly preserved.

Coffee mugs were left untouched, papers were still neatly stacked on desks, and not a single chair had been knocked over. Then he noticed that the snapped cord was still attached to his harness, for safety measures, he jammed a spare hook onto the end of the cable and loaded the gun. Then he checked how his rope had broken, he slid the rope through his fingers checking for stress marks but that was when he found something odd.

The safety cord had been cut clean, no slow deterioration. It was almost as if-  
"Shizsee ar it stzun, qua shou shi ow I dola!" the threatening foreign voices were muffled behind the stairwell door.

Lloyd eyed the damaged cord and let his brain figure out the rest. As soon as the stairwell door burst open, Lloyd kicked down the desk just in time for the barrage of bullets exploded into it. The maniac who had busted through dropped behind a desk himself to reload. _Think, THINK, if there was only a single- _Lloyd glanced at his grappling gun, before frowning seriously.

He peeled out the gun and leaped over the desk just as the rebel soldier popped out for another assault, _Whoosh_. The hook missiled through the air and went just over the rebel's shoulder, Lloyd hastily clicked the fast retract feature. The hook flung backwards, and skewered the man's neck from the back. The victim floundered around whilst clutching his neck; Lloyd sadistically watched as the rebel kneeled down, clutching his neck as the blood spurted from his jugular.

Once the man was finally dead, he retrieved the Beretta and went up to the roof. He had no rope and hooks anymore, so he discarded the grappling gun as it would only slow him down. He checked his watch; there were but a few hours to get to the rebel base before it locked down. And Lloyd would prefer _not _to search for his target whilst being stampeded by a horde of bloodthirsty Chinese insurgents, who shot at anyone who looked at them funny.

He'd never be able to fight through the streets, and because the buildings had been closer, perhaps he could've jumped by his physique alone. It was a very bad idea, but from the continued absence of any good ones, it was worth a shot. The roof was certainly less friendly than the pristine office cubicles, holes punctured it in every direction, fissures splayed unceasingly and Lloyd wondered how the roof even held up his weight.

The next building looked if possible even more poorly; a massive crater replaced one of the top corners on top of all the cracks and holes, stress fractures were everywhere, if something heavier than a cat hit it the wrong way, it would crumble. Lloyd was starting to feel like this whole assignment was radiating 'impossible.' But of course, Lloyd couldn't see past securing his freedom. Well, he was just going to have to suck it up and jump. He hastily had to scan for the safest support.

It was like he could hear the clock ticking inside his head, better just wing it and dash to the rebel base. Twice he ran up and stopped abruptly before the edge, his body impulsively recoiled, but he knew he'd never be able to get anywhere unless he jumped. He moved to the back of the roof, and stripped off as much weight as possible, including all of his remaining weapons, except of course his saber.

As he sprinted he wanted nothing more to stop, or at least close his eyes, but he could do neither, he hefted all of his weight into his jump, propelling forward. He practically floated through the air with flawless perfection, but the landing wasn't so graceful, he missed leaving him to sail down the building. He hysterically moved his hands everywhere, feeling for anything he could grip, but thrashing his arms everywhere didn't help, he just continued to plunge down, but something strange had happened even before he had jumped.

Artillery strikes against the city grew louder and louder. Had they using more potent firepower, or were they getting closer? Whizzes and sharp bangs could be heard much louder, there was no doubt that they were aiming for the strange person tumbling down a building. Thankfully even with the cutting edge technology the gunners couldn't see Lloyd _that_ well and could only see that he wasn't in the Chinese military uniform colours. However, they could only fire around him at best.

BOOM! A bombardier had gotten lucky and shot just below him, impacting on the building. It was horrific, smoke billowed from the hole, fire contaminated the interior, and cracks dangerously spread out across the already bedraggled hotel. But _he had just found his ledge. _As quick as a flash, he boosted his hands forward to hit the ledge only just catching the jagged shrapnel which was the hotel's framework. Lloyd screeched in terror, his wrists felt broken, one of his fingernails was ripped out, but worst of all he'd had to grab onto jagged shrapnel, even his bandaged hand.

It was pure torture, but he pulled himself up regardless, it had been a traumatic experience, but they were just another chapter in a book full of misery and had been entitled _Lloyd__'__s life_'. How bad could it be? As he tried to flex his wrists, he learned the answer to that question. Stinging pain scorched through his arm, and he convulsed in a mingled sense of defeat and misery.

His flexed them again, and to his surprise it didn't hurt as much. Okay, it had felt like slamming a door on his Johnson, but he suspected they were just badly bruised. After a few minutes of twisting, his wrist had only an irritating throb and Lloyd could handle that. _Better, now to get back on track. Shit, I'll only have an hour left to escape. _Suddenly, doors burst open all around Lloyd, green clad Chinese soldiers with assault rifles were aiming right at him, aiming downright toward his chest and head.

No doubt they had seen him survive the fall after the smoke had cleared. He dived for a door, but he was swept off of his feet and thrown into the wall, in a jumble of shock and alarm. The artillerymen had kept the trajectory the same and had unloaded another round perilously near Lloyd. Just a few more metres closer and he'd be in a war story told by the Chinese gunner, to his future grand kids.

It was a wonder that the structure was still standing immediately after the first round, but now it couldn't take it anymore, it was crumbling from the base, and because of the fall, Lloyd was going to die in a few seconds if he didn't have another one of his miracles.  
_Shit, SHIT! Can't run, can't survive the collapse, which only leaves …_

Whatever, he wasn't going to die in a pile of rubble after surviving a sixty foot drop. The adrenaline coursing through his system sent his vision into a trance; his eyes were faraway and robbed of all emotion. Slow motion affected him like a drug, even in a world war, things seemed more peaceful, just bliss. But as the sound cleared and the pacing quickened, he knew that when he landed, if the fall didn't kill him, a stray chunk of debris would.

* * *

A young, brown haired Canadian with a few pale freckles was bellowing curse words both Chinese and English. Smoking shells flew past his wavy hair while he nailed round after round into Government soldier's bodies. Blood sprayed across his face but he didn't care, with only a few kilometres away, it really looked like he could make it to the temple of Confucius.

The leader of the rebellion had manned a HMG mounted on top of a roofless American Humvee, his driver was doing his best not to run over any rioters, but at top speed some collateral damage was unavoidable. The Leader pumped round after round into as many green uniforms as he could while speeding through the war torn streets. His driver knew where all the roadblocks were and was driving as fast as he could around them.

The automatic gunfire imploding from the HMG was constant and giving The Leader a small ringing in his ears, but he couldn't stop shooting even if he wanted to. A mad gleam pierced his eyes, and a maniacal cackle infected his profanity. His driver steered around a corner to witness a structure that had taken a massive shell, destabilising it so much it looked like it was going to fall, already the building creaked heavily, metal rubbing against concrete, it had been going to fall.

"Keep moving!" The Leader ordered in Chinese to his driver after a halt.  
"If I go any further the building will crush us!" the driver would prefer to get to the temple safely.  
"And if you stop the rubble will block our path," he cried over his own gunfire.

The driver saw his point, and accelerated as fast as he could to the end of the street, and past the safety of the next block. The Leader smiled as the vehicle sped forward, his smile was wiped however, when a second ear splitting explosion erupted across the building, sending it to crumble.

"FUUUUUUCK!" the driver and Leader yelled in unison. The driver wasn't even bothering to avoid rebels now, he was driving over anyone in their path, and The Leader could feel his machine gun not firing, spent.  
Then it was just one crazy thing after another, a roaring American with a sword slung over his back, was falling from the building and onto their Humvee.

Lloyd smacked into the Humvee sickeningly, lying down spread eagled, clutching the sides. He was as surprised as the gunner, they were both hollering like madmen, if Lloyd were to write an autobiography, he'd call this chapter: Two Idiots Hollering Like Mad Men. The Leader was unsure whether to kill the American or help him in; well he wasn't going to make decisions now.

Wreckage rained down upon the street everywhere, plaster, brick and mortar bucketed on other buildings, on people, and there was no escaping the carnage. The Chinese soldiers that had been with Lloyd in the building had followed him, and two landed on the Humvee, grasping onto the windows and doors. Lloyd gradually got out his sword and swatted away one of the pursuers, but the other had climbed up with a handgun, Lloyd kicked the soldier's leg, tripping him. The soldier fell on top of Lloyd pushing his sabre off the Humvee, he was trying to point the handgun at Lloyd.

They were resisting vigorously, struggling to get the barrel aiming at one of their heads. Lloyd was using both of his hands to get the gun away from him, leaving no support for him to cling on, the driver had thought that the multiple crashes on the roof were debris, so he was shifting the steering wheel left and right attempting to shake off the rubble.

"Will you fucking shoot him?!" Lloyd turned to his target hopefully, but with a tone of distress.  
The Leader fumbled with the magazine, his hands were shaking violently from the clash, and his hands were soaked with blood, making sliding back all the mechanisms slippery.

_Slip the cocking handle back, _he groped around with the handle, trying to see if his potential ally was dead, _turn the safety switch to the right, _his fingers slipped off the switch a few times, _lift the feed-tray cover and attach the magazine under the receiver, _he jammed in the magazine, not even bothering to see if it lined up with the dovetails, _move some rounds into the feed tray, _he kept forgetting how many inches of rounds were required.

"Hurry up! Please, no," Lloyd pleaded as the barrel moved millimetres closer to his forehead.  
_Slam down the cover firmly to make sure it locks in place_. _Click. Click. Click! _What the hell was wrong?! Lloyd screamed frightfully, what had the Leader done wrong?!

WHAT?! Oh shit, the safety. The Leader slid the switch forward as the soldier crept the gun down a bit more. The Leader left off a round right into the attacker's head, spraying meaty lumps everywhere, but as the gore seeped onto the front windscreen, the driver squawked not knowing who that had been. Lloyd lurched forward suddenly as the driver abruptly braked at the entrance to the Beijing temple of Confucius.

He rolled off the roof and onto the pavement, the driver yelped as he saw the lifeless body in front of him, he hurriedly stepped out and pried the body onto it's back.  
"No!" The Leader shrieked in Chinese, "He helped me! If he's dead …"  
His voice trailed off, but the driver got the essence of it, he checked for a pulse.

"He's alive! He's alive! Quick, let's get him to a stretcher," the driver was relieved, if was clear that if this man had proved himself to be important to his leader in this short space of time, he must be an exceptional fighter, and he didn't want to be responsible for the loss of a someone important.  
Lloyd groaned, it felt like he was dying, he wasn't sure how much abuse his body could take. He struggled to sit up, but ceased clutching his side in pain, he needed help.

"He won't be in fighting condition for at least a week," the driver proclaimed realistically.  
"It won't take one night to claim parliament house, we'll need him," The Leader said thoughtfully.  
The pair lifted him to the make shift medical bay.

"Wait, wait," Lloyd coughed, "What's your name?" He hardly ever learned why he had to kill his targets, forget learning their names.  
Sometimes it was good, too much knowledge always lead up to him feeling guilty.  
"My name is Josiah, that's all you need to know," Josiah answered.

Drugs flowed through Lloyd's system; the last thing he saw was Josiah's sparkling green eyes.

* * *

Broad daylight filled Lloyd's eyes; he had woken up in the officer's tents, safely behind thick layers of mortar. The Great Hall of People was where he and Josiah had been fighting for weeks, parliament house. But he was certain that day had been the day, where they'd take it from the power hungry fools. Socialising with Josiah gave him back a personality, and woke him up from his nightmarish experience as an assassin, and his torture under his kidnapper.

He had long forgotten his pact with his former kidnapper; he loved fighting alongside rebels with a purpose. Not for money or supremacy, but freedom and the right to horde their own resources, and not share it with other countries, weakening China as a whole. Besides, how could The General get to him? Past an army of fully armed rebels? Not going to happen.  
Lloyd clothed and armed himself, "Three hours!" Someone yelled in Chinese, then English.

He had no time to waste; he needed to find Josiah to see the plan of attack. Non-stop fighting for weeks had shown, lines of trenches surrounded the Hall, the road and pavement had been obliterated, and replaced with muddy dirt. Small fires and barricades were scattered randomly, Lloyd could only join the battle for a week, a positive or negative depending on what mood he was in.

Gunshots were fired regularly, but only for intimidation, barely anything hit its target with the level of wall hugging everyone did, and Lloyd was well aware that nothing could get to you unless you got stupid, and leaned on the opposite side of the trench wall. Lloyd spotted one of the many air craft emplacements in Beijing, the rebels were taking no chances, so even if by some miracle the aircraft wasn't taken down after a few seconds by infantry, the triple barrelled weapons were manned twenty-four seven.

Lloyd moved past lines of infantry and corps men cradling stretchers with wounded rebels, horrific injuries could be inflicted, and even now, Lloyd was surprised with how rebels were disfigured. The worst one's face was a bloody mess, every time he tried to scream it just ripped more skin off, he had since been sedated and kept under suicide watch, there had been some horrific things happen, and Lloyd couldn't separate the rumours from the fact.

The large command post was in sight, a large underground fortification. Dingy, grotty and the stench of blood and sweat, Lloyd hated coming there. A fierce chatter of Chinese coud be heard from behind the door, it had always been like that when deciding battle plans, everyone had an opinion and no one agreed with anything. These were rebels not professional military, only the Leader seemed to have any _real _training, but was keeping a tight lid on his past, something Lloyd felt mutually about.

The room was barren except for bamboo poles supporting the ceiling, and a large timber table. Dozens of Chinese rebels hunched over the counter, gibbering in constant Asian, and pointing to specific points on a map dominating the table.  
"Can you recap on the plan so far, I just woke up," Lloyd asked in slow English.

China spoke English more than anywhere else, but he was trying hard to learn Chinese, but learning another language while fighting a civil war proved to be tedious.  
"Well," Josiah started, "So far, we have a very simple plan, but an effective one. The soldiers will be tired and not thinking straight, we'll just have all our forces storm the Hall, raiding the rooms. But the prime minister is holed up in a panic room. You, me, and Zhi will each have a set of explosives, we'll blow our way a bit after the distraction portion initiate."

"Seems pretty straightforward, why so much debating?" Lloyd noticed the flabbergasted expressions of some, clearly they'd been arguing.  
"We're just arguing where to attack from," Zhi sneered as if it was obvious.  
Lloyd had learned to put up with Zhi's constant ridiculing, but it didn't mean he wasn't a real prick. Zhi wasn't a racist, but Lloyd had chosen to divert a large portion of troops to save the trenches, as opposed to saving civilians. All of them were butchered, including Zhi's family, Lloyd never fought back in an argument because he knew Zhi's pain.

Lloyd didn't want to be involved with such a small tableside dispute, so he hunched over the table like the rest, but didn't contribute any new ideas, just listened and occasionally agreed with the plan that he thought was best. Finally, Josiah said that the main army would focus on the East Gate, and an hour afterwards, Lloyd, Zhi and Josiah would just go through the main gate while they all charge off to the East.

"Dwei choo shuit ta shaze!" Josiah said in Chinese, Lloyd didn't even bother trying to figure out what he was saying but he got the gist from his tone and body language: that was a wrap.  
The machine guns ammunition wasn't restocked, the weapons were cleaned and loaded, troops were refitted, and Josiah's team went to the armoury. The Hall's soldiers mimicked them; the movements deviated from the rebel's usual pattern, they knew what was happening.

Lloyd couldn't help but feel a bit guilty that he wouldn't be fighting alongside the rebels he had grown to know and think of as brothers, despite race, or any other barrier he considered petty. As the guilt settled, he entered the armoury with a heavy heart, hearing the whistles, listening to the foreign war cries, and hearing some of his brother's last words.

The trio were outfitted with a backpack of explosives; they sat in silence, horrifically hearing some the battle wage. But as the shots became a bit more distant, they set off. The team practically waltzed through the front gate, encountering no one but the piercing shame of knowing that they could not fight and die beside their comrades … no their _friends. _The doors were bolted shut, but Lloyd had no problem using his recovered sabre to carve a way through.

The team walked through vast rooms, some with the air of past magnificence, others, with decaying walls, small fires glowing, and dead bodies piling up, some in the hundreds. Zhi felt no remorse, Josiah felt satisfaction even, and Lloyd felt neutral, the soldiers didn't deserve what they got, but the rebels had let it be known they were taking prisoners, except for the Prime Minister. But the more he stared the more it became harder to see the logic behind the piles of rotting corpses, a few on top still faintly breathed, Lloyd averted his eyes.

"This is it," Josiah whispered in English, "Lay the explosives, and don't be too loud. We want to kill as many in the explosion as possible."  
Did Lloyd want to add to the body count? Well he'd come this far, he couldn't back out now, afterwards he'd live with Josiah. Happy ending.  
While his heart urged him not to, Lloyd sticky taped his load onto key points of the entry. "Detonating in three," Zhi firmly grasped the detonator, "Two," all of them tensed up, "ONE!"

The blast blew the metal door right into a bunch of unlucky guards; the trio burst out from cover and fired randomly into the haze of smoke, with red mist occasionally floating amidst the fog.  
"May yo shing!" begged an old Chinese man in a once impressive suit, but had been stained with dirt and blood.  
"Should we just kill him?" Lloyd questioned?

"No," Josiah said heavily, giving the prime minister a relieved sigh, "We'll give him a public execution."  
That hadn't what Lloyd meant, but his protests were drowned out by the prime minister's pleads. This had been what Lloyd joined for, but now? It just seemed so wasteful and ridiculous. So as he cuffed the crying ruler, he couldn't help but feel like he had made one of life's great choices, and he had chosen wrong.

* * *

"Yee pay pine twor sing!" Zhi sentenced in Chinese, but Lloyd didn't need a translation, judging from the taunts, hisses and cheers, the dagger was about to come down.

The former ruler showed evident signs of brutality; he was blood stained, filthy, his ulna was poking out of his arm. He looked more miserable and pathetic than anyone else Lloyd had seen in his life. Zhi kicked his victim onto his knees, he struggled and blubbered harder than ever, Lloyd couldn't watch any further when Zhi took out his blade, the crowd cheered wildly as the blade stabbed down.

Lloyd forced himself to look to not make the rebels suspicious, but the spray of blood on Zhi was unbearable, Lloyd flocked back to his tent.  
"Now, China has been liberated!" the crowd praised the death, Zhi had his gore soaked arms in the air, celebrating like everyone else, but something was wrong, there was a new sound, a low rumble, and it was getting closer.

Transport planes didn't come this far, and nothing else could get through the anti-aircraft guns without turning into an oversized colander. More people were starting to notice it, prisoners and rebels alike, soon everyone was straining their ears.  
"What the-" Josiah was interrupted by a swarm of helicopters now hovering over the legion of rebels who laid witness to the minister's demise.

The choppers were unmistakably theirs, the rebel's colours had been painted right across it, but they were just hovering over the mob.  
"You shouldn't have run Lloyd!" blasted the closest helicopter with a megaphone, every head turned to Lloyd.  
He shivered at the very sound of the voice, his former kidnapper, "WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR?!" Lloyd thundered, "SHOOT THEM!"

The soldiers were slow to react, not having the first lick of sense, and a large portion had trouble with english. The Kidnapper had apparently anticipated this, a dozen shiny objects showered down, and as they went down, a thick fog sprayed out swiftly. Lloyd instinctively tried to pelt away from the smoke, but the crowd was also doing this, he was shoved aside left to right, slowing him down so much. Eventually he was knocked aside and stampeded by the Asians.

Screams blocked out his hearing, and soon enough, everything else. His skin felt like it was on fire, his lungs were burning up within seconds of breathing it in, but by far his worst pain was his eyes. He hollered and balled his hands into fists from the insanely fiery stinging in his eyes, he wanted to rip them out just so that they couldn't agonise him.

All around him people were on the ground twisting in torment, he attempted to get away, but every fibre in his body protested from the sizzling flesh, he could without a doubt that tear gas exposure was one of the most traumatising experiences of his life. He could feel rough hands dragging him through the tide of rebels, Lloyd was too busy clawing at his eye to even struggle against his captors, the last thing he made out were hordes of rebels being gunned downed by the choppers.

* * *

Lloyd woke up with a gasp; he expected torrential pain like the multiple times he had been woken up before from the pain. But this time he had felt almost normal, his skin itched, and his eyes were slightly irritated, but compared to what had happened before, this was like a reprieve.

Lloyd was in his old cell where he had been living under his unknown kidnappers, it was exactly the same, dark, satanic, completely bare apart from his bed and toilet. He rubbed his face from his mental scars; it had been seven months since he had been abducted from China. He hadn't a clue for what had happened to the surviving comrades after the tear gas assault if there had been any, Josiah had been watching from the bunker entrance, so maybe if he had locked himself in the gas couldn't get him. But his kidnappers wanted to kill everyone.

His thoughts were interrupted from his kidnapper barging in with two armed guards, he had long since learned that attacking this man didn't end well, but after what he had done to Josiah, he wanted beat the shit out of him so much, his mother wouldn't recognise him. Expecting this, the soldiers easily beat him down and restrained him to his bed.

"Lloyd, I am disappoint," The Kidnapper started, Lloyd reviled every part of this man, from his stupid accent to his annoying beret, "I thought you were going to run away, but I thought to myself, _surely I can trust him, he'd know much better than to try and escape, when he knows I'd get to him eventually._ How foolishly mistaken I was."  
Lloyd thrashed against the cuffs maddened. The Kidnapper kneeled next to him so that they were eye level.

"I actually _was _going to let you go if you killed the rebel leader. But that's not going to happen, I'm going to have to rethink thing's a bit," he took a cigarette lighter out, "First, I'm going to make sure that you follow me _without question_. Then I'm going to do something nearly as good as letting you go free. But first thing's first."

He ignited the lighter, "I've heard that tear gas is like having your skin on fire, I wonder if that's accurate. Because you're going to experience both, perhaps you can tell me, just to mix things up; I'm going to let that fire sink into your skin for as long as you can before passing out."

A guard stuffed a wet cloth in Lloyd's mouth, as the lighter descended closer to him; Lloyd tried moving away from the fire with his eyes wide as coins in fear. The Kidnapper snatched his arm, battling to keep it steady, red patches from the tear gas still burned; this gave a The Kidnapper a wicked grin. Just before the flame touched his skin, Lloyd clenched his teeth, preparing for it …

* * *

Lloyd panted dryly. He would never be able to define how excruciating his torture had been, not then just after the pain subsided in his arm, and not on his death bed through his last breath. Guards poured water on his arm, he let out fresh sobs but he knew it was necessary to help him later.

"So," The Kidnapper started again, "There's just one more thing to prove that you won't back stab me again. Physical endurance is never enough to satisfy me, I want you to kill Josiah."  
Lloyd registered everything a few seconds late, so he just shook his head energetically after he heard, 'kill Josiah.'

"If you don't do this, I'll take this lighter and take it some where else," The Kidnapper warned, he leered even closer, "Either way you will do this for me, I have plenty of time and lighters here."  
Lloyd still defied him, he would regret it later, but his allegiance to Josiah was strong. The Kidnapper sneered and told one of his goons to do something. The guard rushed out, and brought back a howling man with a bag on his head. Lloyd thrashed against his restraints again, it was undoubtedly Josiah, he could tell by his voice. The uniform slashed with dried blood evident all over it.

Black bruises nearly encasing Josiah head to toe, his middle finger was missing, and some of his nails had been ripped out. Lloyd felt like he had, had it easy now it dulled the pain, "N- n- NO!" Lloyd stammered.

The Kidnapper released one of Lloyd's hands, but forcing it still with unrivalled strength. "This is a detonator," The Kidnapper clasped a shiny tube with a button on the top, he forced Lloyd to clasp the detonator, "All your problems will be whisked away at the push of a button. I'll give you free reign in a team as good as you, with as many resources as we can, thrown at you so you _can_ make a difference. What? you thought that killing that Chinese leader was going to do shit? China was bankrupt, and he was trying to salvage China as best he could.

Oh but your little rebel faction conveniently didn't mention it? I didn't think so, we can give you limitless possibilities, and your task force will be specifically designed to saving humanity. It's what I- _we've _been doing all along, saving the people from extinction. Saving us all is all I have ever wanted, not for praise, not for medal, not for a god damn cigar! Hell my retirement plan is a shotgun, but if you grab this opportunity by the leash, then we _can _fight back effectively."

Lloyd didn't try to drop the device anymore, he couldn't believe it, but his words had hit Lloyd with an impact. That was exactly what he had wanted to do in China, Josiah had immorally slain the minister, but it still wasn't enough. Lloyd wouldn't kill the one man who had trusted him, understood him, and not used him.  
"N- No," Lloyd echoed.

"Think about it, I can give you life! Missions where you are destined to succeed, ones that will turn the tide of the war. Bring order to the planet, this is what we've been striving to do for years. What can he give you? Hunted by nations, fighting against all odds, no budget. NOTHING, all he can do is get you killed."  
Lloyd stroked the button, some sacrifices had to be made, and what if he wasn't lying this time, could he really take that chance? Could he … No, he couldn't.

"I- I'm sorry, I di- didn't want it t- to end li- li- like this," Lloyd wasn't faltering because of pain now, it was out of sorrow.  
He closed his eyes, Jesus, how could it be so easy to kill three people with a fruit knife, but not be able to move his thumb down. Lloyd took one more look at Josiah's bagged head, shaking his head fearfully. He shut his eyes again, and slammed his thumb down on the switch.

"No! Don't!" Josiah beseeched; Lloyd stopped dead in his tracks, "He's manipulating you can't you see it? I've seen things, he just wants the power for-"  
"QUIET," The Kidnapper barked, he made Lloyd to detonate Josiah's head by forcing down his finger on the button.

Josiah's head exploded, The Kidnapper watched it victoriously. Lloyd watched in horror as the guards dragged Josiah out of the room, he was too stunned to even lift a finger.  
"I'm keeping you in here until you obey me," The Kidnapper turned back to Lloyd, "Your team's names will be hidden, only code names. Your team leader's code name is Etrius."  
Lloyd kept goggling at sight where Josiah had been murdered, The Kidnapper's words were hollow, and only a dull background noise compared to the screams of Josiah repeating endlessly in his head.

"Etrius is an infiltration expert, stealth, or just blundering through entire militia groups," The Kidnapper tied Lloyd's hand back to the bed, Lloyd refused to drop the detonator, it was like it had fused to his hand, "You'll rendezvous with him shortly. You'll refer to me as The General now, I have recently become the elite team's CO."  
The General slipped out a photo of Etrius, Lloyd studied, his eyes widening with each passing second.

"YOU MOTHERFUCKER!" Lloyd yowled suddenly coming to life again, he wanted to say death threats, but he knew they'd all be hollow because of The General's military strength, "YOU LIED, YOU SENDING ME INTO A FUCKING DEATH TRAP!"  
The General just strode out, his face impartial not even bothering to deny it.

Josiah had a brother; they were so close but were split up from the resource war. Josiah had mentioned Etrius a couple of times, but even then he regarded Josiah with high respect, despite their different paths. If Etrius found he had killed Josiah, Etrius would want retribution.  
Lloyd's throat was sore but he screamed for hours, until his voice gave out and he just cried, what had he left to live for? He couldn't even save one fucking life, and The General had fucked his life up even more, not that it had needed it.

He was eventually uncuffed from the bed, but had to be restrained again after he tried killing himself, food had to be forced and it had taken years of therapy to even remotely fix his condition. But remotely fixed was enough for The General, Etrius and Beecher were sent to meet him straight away. Lloyd uncuffed and made to look like he hadn't been locked up, but Lloyd secretly planned on killing Etrius. But as soon as he met Etrius' green eyes, he couldn't do it, the green eyes, that had been so much like Josiah's ...

**Sources**  
Machine gun machanics - eHow, URL available at request

Tear gas effects and symptoms - Journal of the Royal Society of Medicine, URL available at request


End file.
